Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance
by Andrew Joshua Talon
Summary: Follow a group of Starfleet officers in a service regarded as obsolete, in a secondary assignment, go from misfits... To legends. Previously entitled Star Trek: 477th Squadron. Takes influence from Ace Combat among other sources.
1. Chapter 1

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

_Federation Starbase Deep Space Nine, Bajoran Sector_

_2370_

* * *

The planet was 'habitable' in the way a hot coffin might be considered a home. Underneath the burning yellow sun and its smaller, red companion, the desert winds of Valo II were kicked up to spread massive sandstorms. Even here in the northern reaches, where the world's small oceans with their bounty of algae kept the air breathable, it felt like a furnace.

Ther'in Shran, commander in Starfleet, bore the heat better than an Andorian should-His world was defined by the cold and the ice, kept warm partly by its sun and more by the gas giant it orbited tugging on the core. The heat of a sun was almost novel to them. Yet the tundra too was a desert, just of a different sort. And Andorians could deal with the harshest environments. It is why they became dominant on their world.

Yet rather than aspects of evolution and biology, Shran was considering the shapes in the oncoming storm-How the wind and air pressure pitched the dust and dirt into strange patterns across its front. He found his eyes tracing them, a faint smile on his lips as he almost leaned against the open hanger door to admire nature's fury. His helmet was snug and secure in his right arm, cradled like a newborn child, as he watched the outdoors.

"Commander?"

He didn't turn from his view. "Yes Ensign Yuy?"

He heard the young man shuffle his feet, nervous. "The Flight Plan has been processed, we're good to go."

Shran nodded. He turned his eyes away from the storm-He would see it again, soon enough. "Good. Let's see how you did on the visual inspection."

He strode across the hanger bay, long legs making Yuy struggle to keep up. He was a young human, out of the Martian colonies, ruddy faced with jet black hair and narrow, almond shaped eyes. A new recruit, still nervous around anyone outranking him or indeed, almost anyone else.

The hanger bay contained a number of fighters-Several lined up on the opposing wall were being tended by maintenance crews and checked out by their pilots. The great chamber echoed faintly from their activity, beeps and soft conversation and a bang from a tool forming a modest background. Their fighter was out, resting on power carts and struts. Shran walked around the vessel, experienced eyes sweeping the craft.

"Tell me the technical specifications," he ordered his ensign. Yuy looked about as enthused as anyone else would be at this, but got on with it quickly.

"AC-104 Peregrine-class courier-er, attack fighter," he recited. "14 meters long, mass 27 metric tons, armed with 3 type IV phaser banks, two microphoton torpedo tubes with 10 rounds each, cruise speed warp factor 4, maximum speed warp factor 6-"

"Enough," Shran ordered, and the ensign stopped in a verbal stumble. He nodded. "The basics, yes. Always decent to have if you're a ten year old boy muttering trivia. What do you know about flying her?"

"Uh... I did simulator training and the Academy training craft, sir," Yuy replied. Shran nodded, smiling. Yuy didn't return the smile. Good. It meant he had some inclination of what was to come.

"Then let's call that lesson one."

The Peregrine usually had its crew compartments arranged laterally-The pilot and co-pilot sat next to one another. The option to arrange them linearly, with the pilots in a line towards the nose, was an option but rarely used by Starfleet pilots used to shuttlecraft and larger vessels. Shran preferred the linear mode-It prevented bumping your elbow against your co-pilot and gave you a better view. So he sat in the backseat, running through the pre-flight checks while Yuy acknowledged each one on the checklist. The little fighter began to warm up and rumble as the warpcore was brought online, and the antigravs hummed underneath them.

"And plasma injectors are green," Yuy finished, his voice muffled by his helmet over the comms, tapping the last few buttons to confirm. His hands rested on the console, and Shran could tell the ensign was glancing at the manual controls with more than a little trepidation.

"Something wrong, Ensign?" Shran asked.

"W-Well, sir... Uh... I've never used... The ships I had before didn't have... Joysticks," Yuy explained. "I know it was an option, but everyone else-"

"Everyone _else_ in Starfleet handles ships that practically fly themselves," Shran stated simply. "This one is little different, but," and here he activated the thrusters, gently lifting the Peregrine off the gurneys and onto its antigravs, "our job requires us to feel the ship more organically."

The Peregrine taxied out of the hanger, onto the thermacrete runway. Large markings in paints were drawn all over it, indicating parking and landing areas. The holographic heads up display turned green, and offered arrows to point in the proper direction of travel. Shran maneuvered the fighter towards the proper runway, obeying the directions. Yuy shook his head again.

"It seems so... Er..."

"Old fashioned?" Shran asked. Yuy nodded.

"Sir," he replied. Shran chuckled.

"It's still Starfleet, Ensign," he emphasized. "We just do things a bit differently."

The HUD turned all green, and the comms channel beeped. Yuy checked it, and nodded.

"We are clear for take off... Uh, sir? One other thing?"

"Yes?" Shran asked, spooling up the thrusters to full power.

"Is there a reason the inertial dampeners are set to..." He nearly choked. "M-Minimum levels?!"

"Yes. Two very good ones, actually," Shran stated. "First, inertial dampeners lower the maneuverability of small starships. Keeping them on the minimum allows us to operate the ships to get every bit of performance we can out of them."

The ensign audibly gulped. "And... The second?"

Shran pushed the throttle to full. The thrusters roared behind them and the Peregrine lifted off-Very nearly straight up like the ancient rockets did. They ascended, screaming through the sandstorm and into the bright blue skies overhead, which soon parted for the vast darkness of space. And through it all, Shran had the ensign's screams filling his helmet.

"If you're hollering that loudly over the thrusters, you're never going to last when I hit impulse," Shran laughed.

It was always fun to break in the rooks.

* * *

_More to come._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

_Federation Starbase Deep Space Nine, Bajoran Sector_

_2370_

* * *

The bar was lively and noisy. Filled with the sounds and smells of beverages and food from dozens of worlds. The dabo wheel spun in the background, sapient beings from across the Quadrant hooting, cheering and gasping at every outcome. Soft music from the promenade faintly reached Shran's ears, as he paused at the entrance to take in the atmosphere and look around. He felt a faint smile curve his lips, his antenna rising to scan around through the diverse cacophony of lifeforms. Turns out, he didn't need to look long.

"Commander!" A burly human with curly red hair in engineering gold stood up from his table, and waved at Shran. Shran's smile grew into a grin, as he walked through the crowd in front of the bar to reach his friend. The man reached out to shake a hand… And Shran moved past it just to capture the human in a tight hug.

"O'Brien! How many damned times do I have to tell you-"

"I know, sir, I know," Miles O'Brien laughed back, returning the hug with only a little awkwardness, "but I can't just turn it off!"

"You and your love of protocol," Shran huffed, slapping O'Brien on the shoulder with friendly force. O'Brien returned it, grinning back.

"I prefer to speak with actions, sir," he replied. "After all, who owes who a bar of latinum?"

"I paid that in full with interest, Miles. You just seem to keep forgeting it," Shran retorted goodnaturedly, lightly elbowing the engineer. The Irishman scoffed, his grin unshaken.

"Better than remembering it and denying it, sir," he shot back, shoulder bumping Shran back. Shran threw his head back and laughed again, his antenna shaking in mirth.

"Ah… Hem…" A soft voice broke awkwardly. Shran and O'Brien looked across the table. A tall, gangly human in medical blue was sitting there, smiling self consciously. O'Brien nodded and gestured across the table.

"Commander Ther'in Shran, this is Doctor Julian Bashir. Chief Medical officer, Deep Space Nine. Julian, this is Commander Ther'in Shran: Old friend of mine. He commands the training base at Valo II that's helping the Bajorans learn how to fly modern starships and the like."

"A pleasure," Bashir said, reaching across the table for a handshake. Shran took it, shaking hard to the point Bashir almost winced. Still, he held on, which immediately improved the stand of the reedy human in Shran's eyes.

"Friend of O'Brien's is a friend of mine," Shran said decisively. He sat down, Miles following suit next to him. "What's on tap?"

"Vithi beer, properly cold," Miles said. He raised up a hand. "Quark! Bring it out!"

A Ferengi in a predictably eye scarring suit emerged from the bustle, holding a platter with three mugs covered in frost. He set it down with an oily smile.

"I'm Quark. I own this establishment. Anything I can get you, please, don't hesitate to ask," he said. He added a bowl of peanuts to the center. "Enjoy!" He bowed, and went off to continue his work. Bashir hid a smile, as O'Brien sighed. Shran glanced over at his friend.

"Polite, isn't he?"

"It's refreshing. Less time you spend with him, the better," Miles opined. Bashir took a sip of his beer-And immediately began coughing, some frosted foam left on his upper laughed.

"New to Andorian beverages, Doctor?"

"I-hack-I knew it was chilled, I didn't know it was frozen," Bashir hacked out. Miles laughed, as Shran held his own mug up.

"Not quite. It's below freezing, but the natural antifreeze keeps it liquid," he explained. He drank it down, draining the mug in almost no time at all. He let out a breath of satisfaction, the concoction washing through him like a refreshing dip in a cold spring. "Haa… Not bad."

"It's best to let it warm up a little first," Miles advised Bashir, who had wiped his face with a napkin. Shran chuckled.

"It's best when it's cold as possible, Chief!"

"I like it just fine when my tongue's not been turned to ice," Miles replied with a grin. "Now a good stout, that's heaven."

The two began debating various spirits they'd imbibed over the years, pros, cons, and embarrassing incidents that always make up drinking stories. Bashir mostly stayed quiet, trying not to seem like an upper class fop out of his element and nearly succeeding. It was silently decided between Miles and Shran to give the doctor a break, shifting over to personal backgrounds. Bashir eagerly took to the topic.

"...Which is when I decided Deep Space Nine would be my first assignment. Which is where I met the Chief here," Bashir concluded his tale, one beginning with university rather than the start of his life as Shran had feared. The doctor gave them a smile. "So! How did you and the Chief meet?"

Shran let out a breath. It was easier when you knew the question was coming, after all.

"Setlik III," said someone else. Shran and Miles looked up at the speaker. Another familiar face-A tall, dark skinned human man in command red. Shran allowed himself a smile, one the speaker returned.

"Hello Cal," he said. Miles rose, a "sir" on his lips, but Calvin Hudson held out a hand.

"At ease, Chief. It's a bar, not a bridge," he said. He pulled up a fourth chair, calling for a drink from the strangely eager Ferengi waiter. He ordered the same Vithi beer as the others, and let it sit to warm.

"It's been too long, Shran," Cal said. Shran nodded.

"It has been," he replied. Miles was studiously looking into his own drink. At length, the chief looked up and gave Cal a sympathetic, understanding look.

"I heard about your family, Commander. I'm sorry," he said. Cal nodded back, and took a deep breath.

"Well… That's what my assignment is all about: Preventing that from happening… Again." He looked back at O'Brien. "Have you heard from Captain Maddox?"

"He's doing all right in the penal colony," Miles said quietly. He managed a forced smile. "He's been organizing the work, improved efficiency of the maintenance crews 130 percent."

Cal nodded back, an equally forced smile on his face. "Never could keep him down. I've heard he might be released early."

"That's great to hear," Miles said, his smile less brittle. Bashir looked about as uncomfortable a man could look, but was trying his hardest not to look it. Shran sighed heavily, taking pity on him.

"Doctor, if you need to make your excuses-"

"Oh, no! No, not at all! I just, well, I… Don't know much. About the Cardassian Wars," he admitted, an honest answer. "Much less… Setlik III…" His eyes widened. "This… This is the anniversary of it. Isn't it?" He looked around. Shran and Miles slowly nodded, while Calvin Hudson looked grimmer than usual.

"Yeah, it is," Miles voiced the obvious.

Bashir glanced at Calvin. The lieutenant commander shook his head.

"I was an ensign on one of the relief ships, after…" He nodded to Shran. The Andorian took a deep breath, his antenna tensed as though looking for enemies.

"I suppose it would be nice… To get the story straight," Shran said, trying for humor and failing. He took another pull of his refilled mug, letting the cold burn of alcohol wash over his senses. He set the mug down, but didn't let it go as his eyes focused hard somewhere else. O'Brien had the same far away look.

"I was assigned to the Ibuki, a Curry-class carrier," Shran said. "I was an ensign, a year out of flight school. We'd been doing routine operations: Disaster relief, planetary survey, a mapping expedition and anti-piracy patrol. Usual stuff. We'd gotten a few distress calls from ships, scared about the Cardies but they were all false alarms. Until this one…"

* * *

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

_USS Ikubi, Curry-class Escort Carrier, NCC-42551_

_Setlik System_

_2357_

* * *

The Curry-class was a member of the vast Excelsior-class variant family, so the corridors and rooms all seemed to call back to the times of Kirk, Sulu, and the other legends of Starfleet. Shran couldn't help thinking of how they must have felt, when they were newly minted ensigns, sitting in a mission briefing. Did they feel the same mix of fear and anticipation? Did they also sit up, trying not to look like a nervous Zabathu trapped in a pen? He didn't know.

His fellow pilots, most more experienced than him, were chattering away. Bustling and a bit rowdy. Frii'Kan Hshiu, a tall Betalgeusian, told a raunchy joke that left his Tellarite co-pilot, Agram, and his human wingman, Ivan Nikitovich, laughing hysterically. Selma Cronan, a human female senior survey pilot about to transfer out to a science ship in the Beta Quadrant, was rolling her eyes like the classmate who gets the joke but thinks its stupid. Hrwar Teton, a Caitian, was reviewing his PADD while his tail twitched in what might have been nerves. Eve Sharp, his senior human pilot with whom he flew their ship, was giving him an encouraging smile.

"Ease up," she mouthed. His antenna twitched, and he sat at attention.

"Yessir," he replied automatically. Her smile grew, and she reached out to bat his shoulder.

"I mean really ease up," she insisted. "You'll give the Skipper a run for his money at this rate."

"Commander Turix is never stiff," he replied instantly. Eve smirked, holding his gaze. Shran sank into the seat, trying to untense. Eve nodded.

"Little better," she admitted. She glanced at the doors, seeing them open. She stood up. "Skipper on deck!"

The conversations and horseplay ended immediately, everyone on their feet and eyes up front. Commander Turix, a tall vulcan with a dark complexion, walked in. As usual for a briefing, he was in full flight gear-suit sealed up and ready, his helmet held by his side. He walked up to the front of the briefing room, and turned precisely to face them all. He nodded, his eyes sweeping the entire room's complement.

"At ease," he ordered, and everyone sat down. "We have received a garbled distress call from the Setlik III colony. We are due to enter orbit of the colony in the next twenty-two minutes, thirty-three seconds." Turix looked to his padd, and pressed a few buttons. The display screen behind him changed, showing a tactical plot of the system. "Long range sensors have verified the presence of Cardassian warp signatures, with large areas of subspace jamming. Concentrated at the L1 and L4 points around Setlik III and its two moons. Enemy force composition is unknown: Operations and the science section suggest the presence of two capital vessels and multiple support vessels, perhaps as many as ten. We do know that ground forces have landed-The distress call specified as much. Communications were lost seven minutes and twenty-nine seconds ago, passive data links were lost ten seconds later." Turix looked up, his serene expression mildly tensed.

"Based on previous encounters with the Cardassians at other border colonies, you can expect high usage of decoy probes and drones to conceal not just their numbers but to divide our fire. The Cardassians seldom engage our vessels without a numerical advantage, so the captain is already anticipating we will be outnumbered. The Miranda-class destroyer Gral has arrived and is accompanying us as escort: The New Orleans-class frigate Rutledge is enroute at maximum warp and will reach us two minutes, plus or minus thirty seconds after we arrive in high orbit over Setlik III. Our orders are to sweep the orbitals for enemy vessels and engage them, while providing overhead cover for relief forces to make their landings. Do not stray more than 300 thousand kilometers from the capital ships: Cardassians are reportedly good at ambushes. Challenge any vessel that enters the area:"

His voice became… Somewhat softer. "Do not fire until you have visually identified them, as there may be Federation civilian vessels attempting to enter to render aid to the colony. We have already lost several citizens today: I do not want any more Federation casualties."

"Yessir," the room replied, almost as one.

Turix looked directly at Shran, and he sat up a lot straighter. "Ensign Shran, you will be my co-pilot for this mission."

Shran started, his jaw dropping. "Ah-Sir-That is-"

"Lieutenant Raines is still in sickbay from the injuries sustained in the survey mission over Camus II. Lieutenant Sharp has recommended your skills to me and I have found your performance record satisfactory."

Shran nodded quickly. From the Commander, that was the Vulcan equivalent of high praise and he felt his nervousness ease off a bit. He found himself a bit annoyed by Eve's smirk though.

"Any questions?" Turix asked the room at large. There were none. "Dismissed."

Twenty minutes later, Shran was running through the final flight checks on Commander Turix's own Peregrine-fighter, sitting in the middle of the large, through-deck hanger bay. He'd gone over everything at least three times, trying to divert his nerves into something productive. He looked up at the sound of a foot on the wing, and nodded in respect to the Vulcan commander.

"Sir. The preflight checks are complete and the outside inspections are finished. We are ready to go," he reported in as even a tone as he could. Turix nodded.

"Good." He glanced over Shran's console, nodding again. "You completed the LCARS interface training, I see."

"Yes sir," Shran said, smiling a bit. "I'm sorry if the interface isn't quite what the regs asked, but-"

"The regulations specify that the interface should be laid out for ease of use. You have done that to make yourself more efficient. Do not apologize," Turix said, his monotone… A bit more gentle than usual? It was so difficult to tell with Vulcans. Shran nodded back.

"Thank you sir."

Turix sat down in the front seat, fastening his helmet. "Comms check," he said over the internal communications system.

"Comms online, showing green," Shran replied, as the canopy slowly closed, sealing shut with a comforting, mechanical thunk. Turix ran through his own checks, his own screens showing green. The Vulcan commander's helmet inclined-Almost like a nod to himself.

"Photon torpedoes?" Turix asked.

"Six Type VI loaded. Safeties on," Shran reported.

"Good. Keep them locked until further notice-They're too dangerous to let loose with allies in range," Turix stated. Shran nodded, knowing the reason but repetition was the keystone of learning all this. Until it was made instinct, he wouldn't be annoyed at being treated like the rookie he was.

"Ibuki, this is Bunyip Squadron," Turix spoke to the comms, "Sehlat reporting. Ready to launch."

_"Bunyip squadron, you are cleared to launch. Launch when ready,"_ the operations officer replied. Ahead, the large clamshell hanger doors slowly parted, the forcefield keeping the atmosphere in glowing at the edges of the portal out into space. Ahead, they could see the blue white form of an M-class planet: Setlik III. And if Shran squinted slightly, he could see the outline of another Federation starship far ahead in a lower orbit.

"Sehlat, I've got visual on the _Rutledge_," he reported. Turix nodded at his callsign.

"Acknowledged Icebreak. Once we're out, establish IFF link and patch into sensor network," he ordered. The Vulcan activated the thrusters on the new fighter, and took them out through the portal with only the mildlest of bumps and shakes. They shot out into the black, the shields of the _Ibuki_ dropping just long enough to let them pass, before going right back up again. Shran was in a sea of sensor information, one he quickly sorted through to find a coherent picture.

"USS _Rutledge_ is transporting away teams. No sign of Cardassian ships for ten thousand kilometers… Twenty thousand…Lot of jamming, stand by..." His sensors beeped, and he immediately zeroed in on the source of the report. "Contact bearing 078, mark 225. Speed, one quarter impulse, low energy output. Seems to be on a course for the colony."

_"Bunyip One, this is Bunyip Two,"_ Eve's reassuring voice came over the comms link. _"We see it too."_

"Hail them," Turix ordered. Shran sent out a standard greeting, and frowned.

"No response," he replied, adjusting himself in his seat. The _Ibuki_ made another call.

_"_Ibuki _to Bunyips One and Two, check it out. All other fighters, form a defensive perimeter around us,"_ the captain ordered. Turix turned and hit full impulse power, the little fighter's change in momentum pushing Shran back in his seat. He kept his eyes on the sensors, checking everything he could. He grimaced.

"There's a lot of interference," he said. "I can't localize it."

"Keep trying Shran. The attack is less than thirty minutes old, they couldn't have gone far," Turix ordered, adjusting their course a bit towards the bright star that was the contact. Out of the corner of his eye Shran could see Eve's fighter-flying alongside.

The star grew into a boxy looking vessel-A Federation cargo hauler, and a fairly large one. Turix hailed them again.

"This is Commander Turix of the Federation starship USS _Ibuki_, identify yourselves," Turix stated. There was nothing but silence. "Turix to unidentified vessel, respond."

"Another contact, 210 degrees, mark 039-It's above the _Ibuki_!" Shran shouted. The vessel in front of them exploded, the flash nearly blinding Shran and the shockwave striking their fighter across the bow like the slap of a giant. Turix struggled with the controls ahead as they spun away. Shran focused on the sensors-He saw new contacts emerging, from underneath the Federation cargo ship, headed right for-

"Bunyip 2! Lieutenant Sharps! Incoming! Bogies, incoming!" Shran shouted. The fighter continued to spin out, giving Shran only brief glimpses of what was happening. Brief snapshots he could never forget.

Dark, amber vessels with glowing red disruptor cannons flying out of the debris and plasma fires of the destroyed ship. Them closing on Eve's fighter, which was already trying to evade. The same vessels opening fire, unleashing a merciless storm of disruptor fire. The fighter exploding, even as Eve shouted something over the comms-

"Lieutenant! Eve! EVE!" Shran bellowed. The sensors told him the full story, to underline the terrible flashes: Bunyip 2 was gone.

_"All fighters, recall, recall! We are under attack! Repeat, this is _Ibuki_, we need support, we are under attack-!"_ The captain's voice came over the comms.

"_Ibuki_, we respond," Turix said. "Shran. Shran!" He raised his voice, and Shran's eyes were dragged from the debris field that was… Was…

"Sir!" He managed. He looked at his screens. "Fighters closing on the _Ibuki_, from above and below!"

Turix engaged the impulse drive, racing after the Cardassian fighters. Already, numerous fighters were striking at the carrier-From above, while the fighters that had erupted from the transport were accelerating right at her. Only a few fighters had launched, and they were engaging the Cardassians as best they could. Shran briefly wondered why the Rutledge and the Gral weren't helping, but the sensors revealed the obvious-Both vessels were exchanging fire with large, manta-shaped Cardassian cruisers.

The phasers, already charged, locked onto the nearest Cardassian fighter. Turix's voice was even.

"Firing phasers," he stated. The golden beams arced out, striking the fighter. It took the hit on its shields, which flickered out. Another phaser shot lanced through the fighter's impulse drive, and a plasma explosion erupted from it. The whole vessel was soon consumed, and the other fighters broke out of the line of fire. Turix held back, seeing the fighters turning back towards him.

"Now," he simply stated, impulse drives at full. He plunged straight for one of the Cardassian pilots, the other fighters attempting to circle around behind the Peregrine. Turix stayed on the course, a collision course. Shran gripping his controls tightly, trying to stay calm, knowing the commander was not suicidal-but who could tell beneath that Vulcan stoicism-?

"Breaking," he stated, dodging out of the way of the disruptor beam. He swung the fighter around, keeping its nose pointed for the belly of the Cardassian fighter as they shot past. Shran pulled the trigger, and the fighter was raked with phaser blasts at close range. Shran didn't see it, but the sensors confirmed the vessel erupted into fire as its impulse drives went up.

"Remaining fighters are closing," Shran warned. Turix nodded.

"Acknowledged. Stand by," he stated. The Ibuki began to grow in their viewscreen, larger and larger. Phaser and disruptor fire filled the sky as the starship and her flock engaged the swarming amber fighters. Shran saw the four fighters behind them accelerate even harder, their impulse engines burning brightly on his sensor panel.

"Sir, they're-"

"I see them," Turix said. He flipped the fighter around, letting momentum keep them moving as he lined up his shot. The fighters didn't break-They just kept on accelerating as Turix fired phasers.

One beam lashed out, striking the fighter on the lower left. It immediately burst into flames, spinning out along the path of its momentum. The other three though dodged them with barely any effort. So easy to explode, so easy to destroy, but why? Why were these taking so little to destroy…?

_"_Ibuki _to Bunyip 1, we're launching more backup, stand by,"_ the captain's voice spoke in their ears. It was at this moment though that Shran broke through the jamming… And saw just what the Cardassian fighters were carrying.

"No! _Ibuki_, don't! Don't! Keep your shields up-!" He called frantically, but it was too late.

Dozens of photon torpedoes erupted from the Cardassian fighters-An almost beautiful, but terrible display, like flowers blooming and then bursting into flames. Turix, trained on instinct, went to full reverse and tried to take them out of the maelstrom.

"Jam their tracking systems, Shran!" Turix ordered. Even in his shock, Shran fell back on his own training-Turning the deflectors of the little fighter to full, targeting the missiles with as much electromagnetic energy as he could to jam them, fry their circuits-

But they were too close. The photon torpedoes flew true, just as the Ibuki's shields dropped to let loose another fighter into the conflict.

The first two slammed into the open hanger bay doors, exploding and engulfing the bay in flames. The ship shook as more torpedoes slammed into its secondary hull, many others flying uselessly by, and more explosions began to rock the vessel. From within, plasma fires erupted, shooting out of the bay doors like a great dragon erupting fire into space. Windows, hull sections, entire decks were blown from the sides of the ship, a nacelle hemorhaging plasma out into the vaccuum. Shran could see people-Bodies, twisted up like puppets caught in their strings, silently screaming.

The other Cardassian fighters let loose their own torpedoes, even as the Federation fighters kept firing on their adversaries, trying to protect their mortally wounded homebase. They too kept jamming away, even firing phaser shots to try and destroy them. It wasn't enough.

The Ibuki bent in the center of its secondary hull, like a great beast convulsing in agony. Then, it split, the hull shattering as the warp core exploded into a massive fireball. Pieces of debris shot out like shrapnel, and Turix did everything he could to dodge the pieces. He went into dizzying manuevers, flipping the fighter every way he could imagine, the world outside a blur. They were being pelted by projectiles, the shield numbers dropping faster and faster. All the while, Turix continued calmly speaking to Shran.

"Shran, scan for survivors and escape pods. They won't survive in this. Scan for-"

A piece of metal, like a jagged, twisted sword, slammed through the transparent aluminum canopy like it was made of paper-And right through Turix's chest. The Vulcan convulsed, sputtering something in his helmet… And went still.

Shran vaguely recalled someone screaming. As though it was someone else. As though everything was a distant, bad dream. But the shuddering impact the Peregrine took from another piece of debris thrust him back into his body, and back into his present reality.

A reality where his ship had been destroyed. His mentor and friend was dead. His commander was dead, right in front of him. His fighter was spinning out of control, damaged, in a debris field. And his enemies…

He could see the fighters closing on him from above. They were locking weapons. He gripped his controls, hard. He tried to knock himself loose, but the Peregrine was tangled up in blackened framework that had belonged to the Ibuki: He could hit the impulse engines, but he would only succeed in ripping his fighter apart. He lifted his eyes, frantically, back up to the fighters. His hearts pounded, as his antenna twitched.

Was this it then? The moment he entered the Eternal Rest? The end of his mortal life and the beginning of another? In such an injustice? In such… An outrage?

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It was cold and empty… Shran took deep breaths, not sure how long the life support would last or if it was one of the systems even still functioning. He looked back up at the enemy fighters. He gripped his trigger.

_Not like this… Not like this… Not like this… Please… If anyone's out there… If I am to die today, please…_ He bowed his head, shaking in rage and grief and despair.

_Let them **die first!**_

* * *

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

_Setlik III Orbit_

_2357_

* * *

Shran glared defiantly up through the canopy, as the Cardassian fighters loomed. He could just barely see the disruptors light up, the sensors screaming in his ears about the weapons lock.

It was as though it was all in slow motion-The beams arcing right for him. He kept his eyes open, refusing to close them.

_Not now, not yet **not yet**-!_

A dark mass flew in front of the beams, taking the blast and shattering into more debris. Shran started, as everything was still moving in slow motion. He checked the sensors-The debris had intercepted the shots, shielding him. The blow had pushed against the Peregrine, jerking it loose from the wreckage of the Ibuki that had trapped it. He almost didn't believe it.

But training took over, as his sensors blared a lockon warning. He hit the impulse drives, accelerating upwards out of the blasts. He was breathing hard, hearts pounding like drums against his chest, but his thoughts… His thoughts were calm.

Because he'd realized something. With the _Ibuki_ destroyed… He had nothing left to lose.

"Papa Two," He muttered out of habit into the comms, as he launched two photon torpedoes. He immediately went to full impulse, narrowly evading the phaser blasts from the other flight of enemy fighters. The three fighters from before broke in all directions, trying to evade. Shran had to divide his attention between these fighters and the other flight, but he was able to see the obvious-Two of them were slowed trying to dodge through the debris field. And those were the two his torpedoes locked onto.

He had to turn away and focus on the phaser fire from the opposing flight-He charged right for them, pushing the impulse drives to maximum. He didn't get to see two of the ships that killed the Ibuki die-But the sensor contacts, showing their desperate, final attempts to escape the missiles were enough. Two shots… And two kills.

"Eight," he muttered through a grim smile. The Cardassians ahead of him stayed in tight formation, trying to overwhelm him with disruptor shots. He responded by hitting his deflectors to full, beaming as much electromagnetic interference at the enemy ships as he could. He hoped it would throw their targeting off at close range.

He closed the distance, dodging right and underneath the wreckage of Ibuki's warp nacelle, and locked torpedoes. He was within 10,000 meters, already knife fighting range, but kept charging. It was reckless, almost suicidal… 5,000 meters… 2,000...

But it worked, as the Cardassian commander was clearly not willing to call Shran's bluff. The fighters broke, forming a flower petal as they tried to catch Shran's Peregrine in a crossfire as he shot by. Shran had other ideas, and despite the straining protests of the spaceframe, he slammed on the impulse drives to vector his course right at the uppermost fighter. He stabbed phaser button like he was jamming a knife into his enemy's heart: Orange beams of energy lashed out. One fighter exploded, point blank range rendering his shields little use. Shran targeted the next one, firing, and blew off the Cardassian's impulse drive. It spun out of control into the debris, as his three fellow fighters attempted to pull around. They fired wildly, shots all over the place.

Shran spun the Peregrine around, letting his momentum carry him. He pumped more phaser shots into the fighters, who ascended with their noses points right at him. Against the protests of the impulse engines, he threw the fighter into a kind of arcing dive-Rotating to keep the nose right on his foes while the fighter "fell". One shot by the Cardassians struck his port wing, the shields giving out and a chunk of his hull was torn away. He compensated with the thrusters, and let loose three more torpedoes. He then flipped around and went for full burn, another phaser hit by the Cardassians striking his fighter. The hull shook, shuddered… But stayed together.

Shran allowed himself to spin around again, and watch. Two of the fighters, dogged and determined, had charged into the torpedoes-And he got to see them go up into plasma fireballs, their wreckage spraying into the cloud of metal all around them. The third had already been pulling away, and dropped some kind of debris from tubes-Something to confuse the sensors.

The torpedo may have been fooled… If Shran hadn't taken a hand, and sent a proximity detonation command.

The torpedo burst into a new, short lived star, the radiation washing over the Cardassian fighter. Its outer hull burned, cracked, and came apart like shattered glass. A second later, it's own fusion reactor went up, leaving a cloud of molten metal to spin away into the abyss.

Shran's breathing suddenly sounded very loud in his helmet. He was covered in sweat, his suit felt tight and hot. He was floating now-The artificial gravity seemed to be offline, along with a half dozen other systems. He looked out, around, at the debris field. He could still see bodies floating among the wreckage… Almost close enough to identify.

He shut his eyes tightly. He'd been saved… He'd done it. And while his crew was in the afterlife, he'd sent the bastards who'd killed them straight to Hell ahead of them.

He supposed he had nothing left to do then, but join them. Shran found himself letting go…

His console beeped urgently at him again. Shran opened his eyes and looked at the screens. The fighter from the first group, that had killed the Ibuki, wasn't as dead as he'd thought it was. It was on the other side of the debris field, heavily damaged and trying to make a run for it. Shran's hands found the controls again.

"One left," he murmured. "One left…"

His hand rested over the impulse throttle-He'd need to get closer to make sure his last torpedo didn't get confused in the clutter of the Ibuki's grave.

_"-_ledge _to any Federation starships, can you read us? Over! Repeat, USS _Rutledge_, to any ships-!"_

Shran stared at the communications panel as though it was an alien thing. He hesitated for a moment, before he tapped the key.

"_Rutledge_, this is Bunyip 1. We-I hear you!"

_"Thank God,"_ the man gasped. _"This is Captain Maxwell. We just barely took out a Cardie cruiser-Heavy damage sustained. What's the condition of the rest of the fleet?"_

"The… The _Ibuki's_ been destroyed," Shran reported shakily. "I-I can't find any other survivors. The _Gral_… I can't find her, my sensors were damaged-"

_"The Gral's hiding in a nearby asteroid belt. They lost their warp drive from that sneak attack. We're rendezvousing with them while we avoid the other Cardassian ships. We've got a plan, but the men on the surface need help to last that long. You're the only asset in range."_

The enemy fighter was accelerating, getting through most of the debris field. Shran's fingers twitched.

_"Bunyip 1, do you read? You're the only chance they've got!"_

"... I... " Shran hesitated. The man spoke again, more softly but just as firmly.

_"Son… What's your name?"_

"... Shran. Ther'in Shran," he murmured.

_"I know… I know what you're going through,"_ the man said. _"That loss… You can't wrap your head around it. You're burning inside, but also hollow and cold and confused. I know. But we can't let that stop us, son. We can't let what happened to your crew, your friends, happen to anyone else. It's going to be hard-The hardest thing you do-but you have to do it. There is no one else. Do you read me, son?"_

Shran took a deep breath. The Cardassian fighter was nearly out of range now.

"... I read you, sir," he said. He turned the Peregrine around, and set course for a low altitude recon orbit of Setlik III. "I read you."

Even as he headed for the planet though, he still watched the fighter. Watched it until it vanished out of sensor range.

* * *

_Starbase Deep Space Nine_

_2370_

* * *

The table was silent. Bashir was quietly horrified. Miles' own eyes were far away, but there was no mistaking where his mind was. And Calvin was cold, angry, and thoughtful-Looking dangerous.

"The Cardies had a few anti-spacecraft skimmers," Shran said. "I had to dodge them for the next three days."

Bashir gasped.

"Three days? All alone in…" Bashir trailed off. Shran nodded grimly.

"He was able to get in contact with me," Miles contributed. "It was hell on the ground, but Shran was able to give us intel to get civilians to safety, find out where their forces were…" He took a long pull of his now warmed Vithi, and set down the mug with a loud clink. "Without him, we wouldn't have survived an hour."

"Wasn't easy," Shran said softly. His eyes turned to Miles. "... Especially with how you kept getting into trouble."

Miles shook his head. "Had to drive the garrison out. It was the only way to get access to the comms relay. Besides… You could have refused to help."

Shran looked back at his mug. "No," he said. "I couldn't."

Silence fell again. Bashir's commbadge chirped, and he started for a moment before tapping it.

"Bashir here."

"Doctor, we have an injured dock worker we need you to treat," a nurse stated over the communications device. Bashir nodded, and looked a strange mix of awkward, apologetic, and grateful to the three older men.

"Sorry. Duty calls. I…" He trailed off. Miles and Shran shook their heads.

"It's all right," Shran said. "Go."

Bashir nodded, and took his tall, lanky form out the bar doors quickly. Miles shook his head, a bit of gallows humor in his smile.

"Poor kid couldn't hide an emotion if his life depended on it," he said. Shran chuckled.

"He's a good friend. I'm glad," he said. Miles snorted.

"More an annoyance who at least buys the first round," he muttered. Calvin shook his head, chuckling a bit himself. It sounded hollow and unnatural though.

"Chief, I hate to do this but we need some privacy for a short bit," he said seriously. Miles' brow crinkled, but he nodded and got up.

"Not a problem sir. Need to stretch my legs anyway," he replied. He walked out of the alcove towards the bar. Shran turned and looked at Calvin curiously.

"What is it?" Shran asked. Cal sighed, pressing his hands together.

"I was debating whether or not to approach you about this. Until I heard that story." He looked up and locked his dark brown eyes onto Shran's light blue ones. "Heard it again."

"This is about your assignment in the Demilitarized zone," Shran stated. Calvin nodded. Shran sighed and shook his head. "I told you before, Cal: This treaty is shav. I can't be a part of enforcing it. It will never work. All it does is sell out our people so we can focus on the Borg."

"I know," Calvin said quietly, "and I agree with your assessment. The Cardies will never stop with just one colony, one world-The Bajorans are proof of that."

Shran raised an eyebrow. "So what exactly are you doing in the Zone, then?"

Calvin smiled faintly. "Helping to… Organize the colonists. So that they aren't helpless against the Cardassians. So they can defend themselves."

"Sounds good," Shran said quietly. "But a few hand phasers and plasma rifles aren't going to be enough, are they?" He lifted his mug to his lips.

"Not with the Cardies giving their colonists weapons," Calvin said. Shran paused his drink's movement.

"... You can prove this?" He asked. Calvin growled.

"Not yet. But with some help…" He leaned back in his chair. "You have some leave coming up, right?"

"I always have leave coming up," Shran said with a slight smirk. Calvin smirked back.

"So why not… Join me? For a little while."

Shran slowly set his mug down. He fixed Calvin with a level gaze. "Calvin," he said quietly, "I'm not a fool. I can see where this is going. And I know where it ends."

Calvin stared back, just as levelly. "You don't agree?"

Shran looked down at his mug. "In principle? I might," he admitted. "In practice? I was at Wolf 359, Cal. I came in right after. I saw what they did." He looked back at Calvin, his voice cool and controlled. "I can understand hard decisions. Decisions that cost you your honor. Cost you your dignity. For a larger, greater good."

"If we don't enforce the smaller goods, then what use are the greater goods?" Calvin hissed, getting angry. "Where's the justice and honor in that?"

"I don't disagree. It's wrong. It's wrong and it's going to blow up in our faces one of these days," Shran said slowly, eyes locked onto Calvin's, "but when you're out of the system, you lose any credibility you might have. When you take that final step, you've lost all the trust you've built with everyone you knew. And you shrink all your options down to two: Fight, or die." He sipped his beer again, then slowly set it down. Calvin looked angrily down at his hands, then slowly back up at Shran.

"... Going to report me?" Calvin asked. Shran fixed the human with a long, silent look.

"... Over what? A friendly conversation?" Shran asked quietly. Calvin very slowly nodded.

"Of course," he said. "That's all it is."

"Of course," Shran nodded. "And we can have many more in the future if you like." He looked over at the bar where Miles had gotten into a mild argument with the Ferengi proprietor. "Chief! How about another round, on me?"

The Chief brought the drinks, and slowly, conversation turned to more light hearted topics: Calvin's children, Miles' little girl, Shran's latest ex. There was much ribbing and some laughter, and Shran almost allowed himself to forget the look in Cal's eyes. He was worried over nothing, wasn't he? He'd left the door open for more talks. What was there to worry about?

It was a question he would ask himself many times in the coming months and years.

* * *

_More to come..._


	5. Chapter 5

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

**_Orbit of Valo II_**

**_2370_**

* * *

It wasn't as though the stars would ever change when he looked out at them. Yet a small part of Andross Gottschalk always surged up in awe when he broke through the sky into the infinite night. Like it was brand new.

"Andross. Mind the plasma gauge. The prototype might have feedback."

He rolled his eyes, pulled back from his musing into his pilot's seat. "This isn't my first, or seventh time testing your new projects, Keiko. Have some faith."

Being in the pilot's seat, he could only imagine the trim Japanese woman sticking her tongue out at him from behind. She was so immature.

"Yes, but I'm here and it's my prototype and we're following procedure," she replied with a bit of a huff. Andross checked over the sensors of the Peregrine. Yes, they were still on the exact same orbital path he had plotted a minute ago.

"So, when is it going to explode?" He asked.

"It's not going to explode!" Keiko said defensively.

"So we're not following procedure then? That would be nice," he continued. Keiko growled at him. It was a cute sound, and her face was even cuter when she was irritated with him. It was, however, far safer to irritate her when he was doing something that if interrupted, would kill them both. Call it insurance.

"The last time it exploded, it was because you did something wrong! So if we blow up, it's your fault, not mine!"

"Good to know," he said dryly. Keiko took in a deep breath, shaking her head. She muttered under her breath in Japanese, stuff the Universal Translator wasn't getting because she'd turned it off. He was able to pick out a few of her favorite terms for him though: "Baka" prominent among them. He'd have to ask what it meant someday.

The console beeped, and he looked down at the display. "All right. We're at the testing range." He took firm hold of the joystick and throttle, as a cluster of spheres appeared on the HUD. "We set for the test?"

"Just a moment," Keiko responded. Her fingers flew over her consoles, arranged in a strange layout. She'd called it "Querty" or something like that. Apparently a format she was used to back where she'd come from.

The twenty-first century. That still boggled his mind, that the young woman behind him was technically older than his great-grandparents. He dismissed such thoughts from his mind and kept his focus on the task at hand-She had a way of noticing when his mind was drifting.

"All right. Pods are powered up. Telemetry is within expected tolerances. How's the link to the new fire control system?" Keiko asked.

Andross cycled through his weapons options. The phasers were the start, of course. Both torpedo magazines were full of the microphotons. He cycled once more, and the pods appeared with a rather simple icon: A rectangular box with five circles on the front. Up on the HUD was a targeting cursor, that followed his eyes as he looked around.

"Huh! That's actually impressive," Andross commented, marvelling at how the cursor matched his eye movements perfectly. "It won't make me go blind, will it?"

"No, I think your activities in your quarters will take care of that," she retorted. Andross managed a little smirk and snort-It was a good hit.

"Firing control is functioning normally. I'm not seeing any issues," he said. He tapped his control keys. "Pods armed. Safeties…" He hesitated a moment, before pressing down. "Unlocked."

The screens turned green. More importantly, the ship hadn't exploded. He let out a breath. He felt Keiko's smirk, and rolled his eyes again.

"We haven't exploded yet. You can't be smug, yet," he stated.

"Please, I can be as smug as I like," she said cheerfully. "So… Starting up the probe sequence! Just look at the target, pull the trigger, and when you've got all the targets just launch!"

"Roger," Andross replied. The circular probes accelerated towards them, getting into pairs before breaking in all directions around them. Andross hit the thrusters, pulling up and starboard to track one group. He locked his eyes to one and targeted it, before moving to the next and repeating it. He pulled the trigger, and he felt a vibration through the ship. Two burning orange stars erupted from the pods underneath the wings, and shot forth through the vacuum, screaming for the two drones. The microphotons detonated, and both probes were converted into clouds of radioactive vapor.

"Good! Good first hit!" Keiko practically cheered. "I knew you could do it-"

"Well," Andross began.

"-my wonderful little pods!" She finished brightly. Andross let out a long sigh. He immediately spun them back around, finding another pair of quickly dodging probes.

"Targeting. Firing," he stated. Another pair of microphotons lashed out, and another pair of the little drones were violently evicted from life. "This is more convenient, but it's only good at visual range."

"Oh, you can launch torpedoes from range any time, but this is for close range combat! When you can't rely on the sensors as much," Keiko explained.

"And it's from one of your animes," Andross stated wryly.

"Is there something wrong with that?" Keiko asked, a bit brittle sounding.

"I didn't say that," he said quickly. He found the next pair. "Maybe make it more challenging?"

Keiko was silent, her fingers tapping rapidly. Four pairs of probes converged, and began circling around Andross like a swarm of angry bees. Andros got his eyes on one cluster, but they broke and shot off in all directions. He grimaced and began hitting the thrusters faster, trying to get eyes on them for long enough to pull the trigger.

"Better?" Keiko asked. Andros began pulling the trigger rapidly, collecting more and more locks. He jammed his thumb on the launch button-And eight microphotons erupted out of both pods, making the Peregrine shudder. The gray probes darted and scrambled around like frantic insects, but the little torpedoes struck true-One after another after another, leaving a cloud of ionized gas burning around them as the drones died.

Andross nodded slowly. "Much," he replied.

* * *

Bringing a Peregrine in for a landing was a far different experience from flying a shuttle or even a runabout. While on paper the Peregrine was supposed to be a heavily modified courier and scout vessel, the changes made bared little resemblance to the slow but agile little thing they were derived from. For one thing, the Peregrine had very little space for the crew: Nothing more than the cockpit module. The rest of its hull was filled to the gills with weapons, sensors, and the General Electric MAMR-451-G warpcore that powered it. As a result, there was barely any empty space in the craft at all unless the fuel tanks and torpedo magazine were empty.

This tended to make the fighter hit the deck not like a gently falling feather, but a rock. Even with inertial dampeners and anti-gravs, coming down onto the runway rocked and shook the little ship. It wasn't anything to be worried about in Andross' mind though: In fact, that was the fun part.

"Bran to tower, landing complete," he spoke out to the tall communications tower near the center of the base. "Taxiing to hanger, throttling down."

"Acknowledged, Bran. Welcome back," was the reply. Andross popped the canopy, letting the warm fresh air into the cockpit. Keiko popped her helmet off, letting her long hair free from the bun she'd tucked it into. She gave him a grin.

"Told you!"

"Not a single thing went wrong… For once," Andross admitted. Keiko huffed.

"I wouldn't say that." She pulled out a PADD and began writing a list on the little tablet. "The reaction times for the controls are still too slow-Even with the optical targeting system, if you can't get a bead on an enemy they might escape. And the interface cycle was slow too: Maybe having something physical for flipping through the weapons options would be better. The LCARs synch rate started to drop when you hit thirty targets, that's another issue-"

Andross let Keiko go on, taxiing the Peregrine over the hot duracrete tarmac. They slid out of the sunlight into the cooler shade of the hanger, and Andross guided the fighter into the nearest cradle. A ground crewmember began waving them in, even as the computers obeyed their pre-programmed commands to guide the ship properly. Redundancy was critical around here.

They settled into the cradle, and Andross went through the power and lock down procedures, barely paying them any mind as Keiko kept going on.

"-and the impulse drivers weren't operating at spec in reverse thrust mode," Keiko finished, tapping the PADD with a flourish of her stylus. She sighed. "I'm not sure why that keeps happening!"

"I think it's because," Andross began, slowly standing up and turning around, "the impulse engines on the ship were specifically designed to run off fusion power, not antimatter. There's always going to be issues there."

Keiko rolled her eyes. "They scaled down starship engines without accounting for the difference in power curves, of course," she sighed, writing another thing on her PADD. "At this rate, I'll have to build entirely new impulse engines."

Andross leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "You can't just tune them to work properly?"

"I have been tuning them!" Keiko insisted, "but I think the reality is that these ships are at the point where just fiddling with them isn't going to get us any better results. It's like turbojet engines in Macross Zero: Insufficient power for everything they have to do."

Andross winced. "Please tell me you aren't still on about the transforming robots thing-"

"Of course I am!" Keiko responded, shaking her head. "You can't tell me it's impossible! I've run the simulations myself!"

"I know. I was there," Andross said dryly. Keiko huffed, slowly rising out of her seat and moving to the ladder.

"You're going to have to let those simulated deaths go: They were just simulations!" Keiko said.

"I just don't know why I have to be the one going through the simulated deaths. With how most of your stuff works in real life, it feels like a preview," Andross shot back. The ladder rattled a bit when Keiko put her hand on it, and he reached out to hold it. Keiko shifted her grip, so that his hand came to rest atop hers. She looked back, a bit surprised. Andross looked at his hand, and back up at her.

"What I mean is-" He started, trying to move his hand away. A cleared throat stopped him, and both he and Keiko looked over at the source. Andross narrowed his eyes.

Commander Shran had two squadron leads who were lieutenant commanders. He didn't know the other one, but he knew this one: Lieutenant Commander Richard "Alpine" Amati, a tall Earth man of French and Arab descent.

"If you're done flirting, Gottschalk," Amati stated in a heavy accent, making Andross yank his hand away like it was on fire, "Matsunaga, we've got a mission. Briefing room, five minutes."

"Yes sir," Andross replied. Amati's eyes narrowed.

"I trust the test flight went well, despite your… History?" He sneered. Andross bit back a retort, keeping his tone level.

"Yes sir."

Amati looked over at Matsunaga, an eyebrow raised. "I'll expect you to have the Chief and myself go over your findings for this test flight before you submit them formally, Matsunaga. After all, you're still adjusting to our time and better to be safe than sorry."

"Of course, sir," Keiko responded with a smile that didn't meet her eyes. "I wouldn't want to make any mistakes in your procedure."

Amati nodded, a slight smirk on his face. "I do have to ask though, Matsunaga. You always pick Gottschalk for your test flights. Wouldn't it make more sense to pick the best pilot for the job?" Amati smiled, his right hand resting on his chest. Keiko smiled back, still kind and polite.

"I always pick the best pilot… For the job, sir," she said. "I believe we had a briefing?"

Amati scowled. "Let's go," he ordered, turning and stalking across the hanger deck. Andross looked over at Keiko, his eyebrows raised. She just shrugged.

"It's his problem, not mine," she said.

"Maybe I should make it his problem," Andross gritted out, glaring holes into the back of the lieutenant commander's head. Keiko gently rested a hand on his shoulder, and he looked down at her. She shook her head.

"There are better ways to prove you're the better man," she said. Andross raised an eyebrow.

"That almost sounded like a compliment, Keiko."

Keiko chuckled and patted his shoulder, turning and heading across the hanger deck. "Fighter pilots. Always the puffing up over a bit of honest appraisal."

"Hmph," Andross replied, but he had to work a bit harder to hide his smile.

* * *

_More to come._


	6. Chapter 6

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

Like everything else on Outpost 444, the interior decor and design of the briefing room was from the 2270s: Pastels and geometric shapes on the walls. It seemed a bit at odds with the modern screen up on the wall, and the simple, slightly uncomfortable chairs the pilots and crew had to sit in. Amati stood at the head of the room, clearing his throat loudly.

"We received a distress call from a Cardassian freighter in the DMZ thirty minutes ago," Amati stated. "They described their attackers as small Federation courier ships-Basically from the same model line as our Peregrines. According to broadcasts made by several former Federation colonies, these attacks are part of a coordinated campaign by an organization called 'The Maquis'."

Amati hit the display panel, and a map of the DMZ appeared with markers denoting the attack. Amati shook his head, looking grave.

"The Maquis have announced that their next target is what they claim is a secret Cardassian weapons depot. Our Cardassian source informs us that this is true, and it is probably the Bryma Colony or the Veloz Prime Colony," he pointed out the star system on the map, "here. Commander Shran and Sisko will handle the Bryma Colony, we will handle Veloz Prime. As these actions could lead to further tensions with the Cardassians, our orders are to enter the DMZ and defend the colony from Maquis attack."

Much muttering and whispering ensued at this. Andross leaned forward, frowning hard.

"What's going to be done about the weapons depot, sir?" He asked.

"The Cardassians assure us they will remove it," Amati said with a sniff. "Apparently rogue elements in their military were supplying arms to their colonists in the Demilitarized Zone," Amati replied promptly, nodding in self assurance without a hint of irony in his voice. "In any event, that's not our concern Gottschalk. As Commander Shran is at Deep Space Nine, and Lieutenant Commander Serkano is off leading another training flight, I will be in command. Lieutenant Mychol Jin, you will be my SIO."

A young Tullian, a Bolian cousin species, with prominent cybernetic implants along his neck and cheeks, nodded as he straightened up. "Yes sir," he replied, managing to sound professional.

"Lieutenant Suref, you're up with Ensign Ro'ad," Amati continued. "Ensign Hajar, you're with Zolnuld. And you, Gottschalk, are with Matsunaga. Get to your ships and get ready to launch. Dismissed… Except you, Matsunaga."

Keiko kept up her sunny expression, even as she tensed up just a bit. Andross shot her an anemic version of a comforting look, before he turned and headed out to his ship.

It wasn't every day you had to go and fire on your own people, after all.

* * *

Four hour laters, their four ship section was streaking for Veloz Prime. Amati's ship was in front, a pair of microphoton pods fitted underneath the wings. Andross and Keiko's ship had the same: A concession that had been granted on the grounds they could use the backups. The other two fighters lacked the pods, as Keiko had only built two sets at this point. They made due with full sized photon torpedoes held in racks, three per hardpoint.

The stars streaked past them as they flew faster than light, a breathtaking sight to be sure, that Andross found himself ignoring as he contemplated his position at the back.

"It's natural to be uncomfortable, you know," Keiko spoke, after hours of being consumed in her readings and analyses. Andross perked up.

"Hm? About what?" He asked.

"Fighting Federation citizens. Your own… Our own people," she said. Andross let out a sigh, not even bothering to deny it.

"I'm kind of glad to be playing spotter," he said, almost a lie.

"Playing spotter is important. We're AWACs," Keiko said. Andross frowned.

"What?"

"Airborne Warning and Control," she explained. "What fighter pilots back on Earth used to rely on for direction. Planes in the back, monitoring everything and telling the fighters where to go."

"Yeah. Important," Andross replied, a bit more bitter than he intended. He shook his head. "I don't feel like it's a compliment though."

"It isn't, no," Keiko said. She chuckled. "I feel more sorry for Mychol. I barely had any time to tell him how the pods work and what to look out for!"

"You focus on helping him through it then, I'll handle the sensor readings," Andross said, already looking through the sensor screen options. "Last thing we need is him getting blown up because Amati wanted some glory."

_"Chevalier to Chevalier Flight, approaching Veloz Prime. Cut warp engines and switch to full impulse in twenty seconds,"_ Amati ordered. Andross set the parameters in the computer, but still held the controls. He had practiced this enough times to get it down to the second.

"Acknowledged," he replied.

_"Three… Two… One… Mark,"_ Amati ordered. The stars returned to dots, pinpricks of light in the infinite darkness. A planet rushed up and slowed to meet them, green and fertile with a few Cardassian satellites and installations in orbit. Another group of contacts appeared, emerging from warpspeed from the outer edges of the solar system.

"Chevalier, Bran. Contacts bearing 078, mark 237. Distance, one light minute."

_"Chevalier to flight, arm weapons and raise shields," _Amati ordered._ "Except you Bran. Stay back and only report."_

Andross gritted his teeth. "Understood, Chevalier," he replied, and he slowed down to say further back. Keiko was still silent, her fingers tapping all over the controls at high speed.

It took several minutes, while Andross got more and more information from the ships. They were Federation of course: Two Condor-class Raiders, two Peregrine-class fighters and a London-class cargo ship. It was running with a high output subspace field, making it hard for Andross to sort through it.

"Keiko, I need some-"

"I've got it," Keiko said, swiftly taking over the sensors. Andross leaned back, seeing the interference gradually become more intelligible. He felt even more useless at this moment, hanging back, weapons offline…

_"This is Chevalier Flight to Maquis ships: Surrender immediately or we will open fire. Repeat, Maquis vessels, surrender or we will engage you,"_ Amati stated over the open communications. _"You have no chance."_

There was silence. Then…

_"This is _Val Jean_ to Chevalier flight. That Cardassian weapons depot needs to be destroyed. We have no quarrel with you if you're not going to help us. But I suggest you stay out of our way."_

Andross's jaw dropped, and before he could stop himself his fingers were jamming down on the communications button on his own console.

"Chakotay?!"

* * *

_More to come._


	7. Chapter 7

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

_Neptune Orbit, Sector 001_

_2367_

* * *

Acceleration at maximum burn in a Starfleet training ship was a rough experience, especially with the inertial dampeners at minimum. Yet fighting against the gee forces kept his heart pounding, a grin on his face. Andross pushed himself harder, pulling himself into a tight turn to try and keep his enemy in his sites. The opposing ship was pulling the gees just as hard, before abruptly turning and darting out of the targeting cursor's range. Andross pulled hard to follow along, starting to get the cursor back on the target again.

Sweat had been pouring down his face in his helmet for a while, but he kept blinking it away to keep his focus, keep pushing, keep going…!

The opposing ship pulled up, and hit the reverse thrusters hard. Andross slammed on the brakes himself, pulling to the right to keep the pip on the target. Then the target… Vanished, right into warp.

"What the-?!"

His sensors beeped loudly. He looked down at his console: He'd been hit by a simulated phaser blast from behind and above.

_"Mauler to Echo 1: You're dead… Again,"_

his instructor stated. Andross growled and slammed his hands against the console.

"Damnit!" He took a deep breath, calming himself as best he could. He hit the return communications button.

"Aye sir."

_"I think three hours is enough,"_ his trainer said._ "Return to base."_

"Aye sir," Andross managed, shifting to autopilot and changing course. He opened up his helmet, wiping the sweat from his face as best he could with the sleeve of his suit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other ship fly upside down and slowly move up overhead. He leaned back, and saw the smiling face of his instructor.

_"You're been getting a lot better,"_ Mauler complimented him. Gottschalk grumbled.

"At dying, maybe," he replied. "I missed that trick, again."

The Cochrane Deceleration: One of the oldest tricks in starship combat. Yet Professor Chakotay was a master at it.

His instructor shook his head. _"And you kept up longer."_

"Are you my teacher or my girlfriend?" Andross snorted. His instructor laughed.

_"You can't take a compliment, can you? Maybe you'll be less ornery with a few drinks under your belt."_

"I doubt it," he muttered.

It took only a few hours to get back to Earth and to land back at Edwards Spacebase. A quick transport and they were back in San Francisco. And it didn't take long from there to get to the bar Earharts. It was bright and garish, and filled with happy Starfleet officers and personnel. Gottschalk sat at the bar, and his instructor, Chakotay, sat next to him.

"Antarian cider, two glasses," he told the bartender, who nodded his bulbous head and got to work. Chakotay looked over at Andross, whose eyes were studiously on a PADD. Chakotay shook his head again, and reached out to take the PADD from him.

"Sir, I-"

"Drop it," he stated. Andross stared in disbelief, and Chakotay sighed. "You're graduating in a few weeks, near the top of your class, and you're still picking at your performance?"

"I have to keep up," Andross pointed out. "I got here without any references or connections or even family. I only did it this way: With hard work!"

The Federation did everything it could for orphans, but Andross had always felt incomplete compared to the other kids. His foster parents were kind and generous, and he cared for them, but that missing piece of himself… It was always so glaring inside him, no matter how he rationalized it.

"I know," Chakotay said gently, "I understand. But you're going to learn that treating everything like another test to pass isn't going to cut it out there." He shook his head. "I've seen officers like that, Andross. Hell, I was one."

Andross frowned. Their drinks came, and he hesitantly took the glass. He sniffed it… And then sipped it. It was surprisingly good, and Chakotary threw back his own glass happily.

"So," Andross said cautiously, "what did you do?"

Chakotay chuckled. "Me? I thought I could handle everything, all on my own. Until I ran up against a problem that humbled me. I learned from it, and I came out better by realizing I needed to ask others for help, and loosen up." He tapped his glass, and the bartender poured some more. He took another drink, slower this time. Savoring it. Andross found himself copying the big Native American, and he had to admit it was better when you let it linger on your tongue.

"And… If I come against that?" Andross asked. Chakotay looked him dead in the eyes.

"If you do… You need to be able to take the blow and get back up," Chakotary said. "Staying stiff will do nothing but make you shatter."

Andross nodded. He looked back at his drink. "You know, you don't have to do all this for me," he explained. "I heard some of the other cadets talk about favoritism."

Chakotay smirked. "Maybe I just like flying against someone who knows how to fly."

They had a few more drinks, talked some more, and even tried karaoke. Andross was terrible at it drunk, but Chakotay was worse and they had a good laugh. And Andross had a new favorite drink.

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Graduation, and then assignment: The USS _Monitor_, a newer _Nebula_-class starship. He became a pilot of the shuttle complement and crosstrained as a tactical officer. He learned how to relax a little, meet his crewmates in the messhall and for drinks. For a year, everything seemed natural and easy. He got promoted to lieutenant, junior grade, and assigned as flight lead. He flew survey missions, relief, even a near encounter with a Romulan Warbird. Like something out of a recruitment vid.

Then came the mission to Maroa II. The planet's inhabitants, the Maroans, had alternated between being close to the Romulan Empire and being interested in Federation membership for almost a century. Their rough and tumble democracy swung one way, and then another-Until finally, an anti-Federation extremist party managed to win. They ordered all Federation citizens offworld in 27 hours, and were threatening to kill any suspected sympathizers or pro-Federation citizens.

The _Monitor_ couldn't beam people up fast enough, so they'd launched runabouts to start ferrying people up from the Federation embassy in the capital, Rorsha'vek'ii. Around the walled compound of the embassy, thousands of desperate Maroans, their green skin tinged in purple flushes of fear and anger, desperately tried to get over the walls or through the gates. The ambassador at the embassy kept letting in small groups of people, evacuating his staff a piece at a time with them, but kept having to drive the crowds back with warning shots from phasers.

Andross kept his cool. He told jokes to the passengers, giving them reassuring smiles and gestures he'd learned quickly from the Maroan guides aboard. He flew them up fast and hard, getting around the sensor nets to deliver refugees to the _Monitor_ or any of the other starships gathered in high orbit. He brought the Maroan equivalent of candy and handed it out to children as they boarded, and the kids waiting for their next runabout.

It was frenetic, but Andross kept his cool and he kept his smile.

Then, anti-Federation forces got into the mix. They started firing into the crowds outside the embassy, scattering them and causing panic and even more fighting. The press to get into the embassy became a riot. The staff had to evacuate up to the roof of the embassy, and still more people kept coming through.

Still Andross kept flying. Still he kept his smile.

Then that moment… He could never forget. He was flying in for another pick up-A desperate one. The crowd on the rooftop was massive, desperate people reaching out to him. He tried calling over the speakers to get them to back off, to wait. They couldn't. So Andross improvised: He got in just close enough to open the rear hatch, and hovered in close enough to people to jump in. The mob swarmed in, stuffing the ship right into the cockpit. Still Andross held it steady, even with confused and frightened aliens muttering and breathing almost down his neck.

They got a lot of people off, but still too many were on the roof. He had to leave… Yet he saw a mother with two children hanging on for dear life to the outer hatch. He grimaced: They couldn't get to space, to safety, like that. He tried to tell them to let go, that he would be back.

He had almost gotten them to let go, to be pulled back… When the missile lock alarm went off. He checked the screens: A Maraon personal anti-starship missile was locked on. It launched, all the interference being generated by the Maraon government to jam their sensors made it hard to spot. Andross swung around on instinct, pulling the runabout out of the way of the missile.

Realization hit him all too slowly-His maneuver tossed the desperate Maraons back into the crowd, sending so many of them over the edges of the roof and to the ground below. Andross watched every one of them fall, their screaming faces burning into his memory. Then.. The missile hit. Not the runabout: He'd evaded it.

It hit the embassy roof.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget the sound of… Debris raining down onto the hull of the runabout. The sights, the sounds…

The rest of that time, he was numb. Nothing seemed real, Nothing felt real.

He was brought before a hearing convened by the captain and the local JAG, to examine his actions during the incident. Not a court martial, no, but to determine whether to go ahead with it. Witnesses came forth: A few of the Maraons whose life he saved, some of the other officers he'd flown with. It all seemed to run together into a dull, gray hum.

Finally, he was called to the stand. Andross vaguely remembered words coming out of his mouth, describing what happened. Answering the questions asked.

He could remember the opposing officer asking if he felt he still deserved to be in Starfleet… And Andross couldn't answer. Not for a while. Long enough she asked if he was able to answer.

"I don't know," he said honestly. She nodded, sympathy almost in her eyes. He was dismissed, and sent to his quarters for recess. There, he sat in darkness. Silent, save for his memories.

The beep of his console startled him. He almost considered ignoring it, going to bed to stare at the ceiling for a while longer. Ultimately, he saw the caller ID, and hit the receive button.

Chakotay was looking back at him, concern on his face.

_"I heard about what happened," _he said._ "Your ship's counselor said you refused to speak with him. So he called me up."_

"What happened was," Andross tried, but stopped. He took a deep breath. "What happened was… You were right. I got… I took a hit. I fell."

_"... And now?" _Chakotay asked softly, his forehead deeply wrinkled. Andross took another breath, as though being conscious of every part of his body. Like it belonged to someone else.

"Maybe I'm not cut out for this," he admitted. "Maybe… Maybe I should just resign."

_"You could do that," _Chakotay agreed. _"So why haven't you?"_

Andross grimaced tightly. "I… I don't know. Those people-"

_"You lost people. It happens. The universe isn't fair, and it will never be,"_ Chakotay said earnestly._ "It doesn't mean it's your fault."_

"They told me that! But if I didn't move, I would have-I could have-" Andross tried, but Chakotay silenced him with a glare.

_"If you didn't move, a lot more people would have died,"_ he stated firmly._ "And so would you. Right now, you're thinking 'if I had died, maybe that would make up for them dying.' But it wouldn't. You're still alive, and they died. But you dying wouldn't change that. You didn't choose to fire that missile-Someone else did. The fact it's tearing you up inside means you're a good man, Gottschalk. But that won't bring them back. All it will do is end your life. The life you're living, and the good you can still do."_ He took a deep breath. _"A Starfleet officer isn't _perfect_. This is the biggest myth created ever since the idea of making a perfect man arose. A Starfleet officer just does the best he can, for those he can."_

"And if my best isn't good enough?" Andross asked, almost a growl. "What then?"

_"Then you pick yourself back up, and try again,_" Chakotay said, not intimidated in the least._ "So… What are you going to do, Lieutenant Andross Gottschalk? Are you going to lie there? Or are you going to pick yourself back up?"_

Andross stared back. He took another deep breath, and he felt a little more alive. A little less numb.

"... I think… I'm going to pick myself back up."

Chakotay smiled.

_"Good answer."_

So he went to the board. He said he had made a mistake, but he was willing to stay in the service. The captain agreed, but suggested a less stressful assignment. Which is how he had come to Outpost 444. Which demonstrated the captain's idea of _less_ stressful: Being on the Border with the Carassians in a system just beginning to recover from decades of their rule.

Yet Andross hadn't regretted this assignment… Until now.

* * *

_More to come._


	8. Chapter 8

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

**_Orbit of Veloz Prime_**

**_2370_**

* * *

There was silence on the other end of the communications line.

_"Andross-Or Bran. It's been a while,"_ Chakotay said, very calmly, as though they were talking in a bar and not facing each other with armed weapons. _"How's the Peregrine treating you?"_

"Very well," Gottschalk replied. "My engineer, Keiko, is great with them. They're old but you can still do interesting things in them."

"Ah, thanks," Keiko said, a bit awkwardly.

_"Bran! This is Chevalier, Flight Lead!"_ Amati barked over the comms._ "You will _cease _speaking to the enemy and immediately-"_

"Sir, wait, please," Andross interrupted. "Let me try. There's no reason this has to escalate into violence, let me talk to him-"

_"They are violating the treaty with illegally obtained weapons and they will surrender or-!"_ Amati shot back.

_"A Starfleet officer not seeking a peaceful solution? Immediately resorting to violence?"_ Chakotay asked dryly._ "I can see the standards have slipped since I resigned."_

_"You're one to talk about being a Starfleet officer, you traitor!"_ Amati growled. _"You will surrender immediately!"_

_"I don't think so," _Chakotay said coolly.

"Sir, please," Andross tried again, the cold sweat pooling on his forehead. "Professor, you don't have to do this. Let's talk this out, please!"

_"Chakotay, if you do not surrender in five seconds, I will open fire. And Bran, if you do not shut up I'll have you court martialed!"_ Amati practically snarled._ "Five-"_

_"Commander, I respectfully disagree with this course of action,"_ Suref broke into the comms. _"It is not logical to engage immediately in combat when a peaceful solution-"_

_"Four, three-"_

_"I don't think a peaceful solution is really possible here,"_

Chakotay observed, his fighters forming up in front of the cargo ship.

"This is the height of stupidity," Keiko groaned.

_"Two, one! Chevalier Flight, engage targets, NOW!"_ Amati shouted, and his fighter charged. Hajar's fighter joined in for cover, while Suref's fighter hung back. Amati's fighter flew right at Chakotay's Raider. The raider charged back, the other fighters flanking him.

"Sir, sir, pull back! Pull back!" Andross warned.

Amati instead… Hit his warp engines and vanished, reappearing behind the Maquis ships. He came out of the warp hop pointed away from the ships, and hastily hit his thrusters to position his nose at them. The time he spent doing this though let Chakotay's group scatter. It didn't seem to phase the lieutenant commander though.

_"Microphotons, LAUNCH!" _He shouted… And the pods attached to both of his wings promptly exploded, bursting into plasma flames._ "Wait, what-?!"_

"Mychol!" Keiko shouted at Amati's SIO. "Eject the pods, **NOW**!"

_"I didn't order tha-_" Amati tried, but the pods soon shot off the Peregrine, the explosive bolts going off to get them as far away as possible. With good reason: In the next second, their warheads went up in two massive antimatter explosions that knocked Amati's fighter away. Andross checked his sensors.

"Two life signs… But they're not going anywhere for a while," Andross breathed out. The fighter was completely disabled, which was probably for the best.

He got a phaser lock warning, and instinctively hit his impulse engines to full and dove to avoid the phaser blast. The lead Raider was firing on him, wingtip mounted cannons blazing away.  
"Suref, Hajar, form up on me!" Andross ordered, pulling up to charge at the belly of the Raider. The other Raider charged in, firing its own phasers and forcing Andross to break off and jink wildly.

_"I am unable to comply, Bran,"_ Suref replied._ "The two fighters are engaging Hajar and myself. I believe her communications are down."_

Andross cursed, and accelerated upwards as the two Raiders continued their phaser attack. They were trying to box him in-Classic Chakotay.

"Hang on... " He hit full reverse and spun the fighter around, screaming right at the nearest Raider. A phaser blast got close, grazing the shields on the port wing, but it didn't deter him. He got close, closer still, and then hit reverse once he saw the belly of the Raider in his sites. The other Raider, attempting to hit him, had to cease fire once he got too close to its partner vessel. Andross kept his course on tight, even as the Raider tried to swoop to the side to open Andross up to Chakotay's fire. He stayed with the Raider, sticking like glue and using him as a shield.

_"Better," _Chakotay's voice broke over the communications, as Andross mirrored the Raider's movements._ "But I hope you haven't forgotten-"_

The Raider bucked sharply, spinning on its axis to try and spit phaser shots right into his face. Andross, anticipating this, hit full ventral thrusters to dodge and fired his own phasers in a barrage. The Raider, not anticipating this, was hit multiple times on its shields and engines, shields flickering under the assault and then fading. Four phaser hits struck home, right on the dorsal side near the engines.

"Their main power and engines are disabled," Keiko read in satisfaction. "Good shooting!"

"You did the targeting," Andross complimented, even now boosting away to avoid Chakotay's fire.

_"Looks like you didn't forget that lesson,"_ Chakotay said over the comms. He broke from Andross's fighter and shot for Suref and Hajar, who were locked in a tight contest with their smaller counterparts. Andross hit the impulse drive to full, chasing after him.

"You don't have to do this," Andross tried again. "You don't have to _keep _doing this. Professor, please-"

_"It's not going to work, son,"_ Chakotay said quietly._ "My decision was made for me when the Cardassians took Trebus and killed my father."_

"There's always a choice!" Andross argued. Chakotay's Raider spun around on its axis to fire phasers again, and Andross dodged the shots. "You taught me that!"

_"Life has a way of teaching us new things," _Chakotay stated, almost sadly. His Raider swung around Andross' return fire, and pointed its nose at Suref's fighter. The Vulcan was quickly evading the phaser shots from the Maquis Peregrine, trying to return the fire but locked in a tight dogfight. Andross grit his teeth.

"Suref! Break to 247! And launch one of your torpedoes behind you! Yield level five!" Andross ordered.

"That won't do any-" Keiko protested. Andross ignored her.

"Do it!" He shouted.

The Vulcan offered no comment, but obeyed: His ship turned and narrowly evaded Chakotay's phaser blast. The Maquis Peregrine behind him accelerated, phasers charged and locked.

_"Papa 2,"_ Suref stated, and a photon torpedo shot from underneath his wing behind him. Andross locked his phasers and fired… On the torpedo, making it detonate into a large, bright plasma flash. The Maquis Peregrine, eyes and sensors blinded, broke off-Right into Andross's phaser barrage. His shots took off one wing, the next hit the impulse engines and sent the ship spinning out of control, helpless.

"Oh my," Keiko murmured. Andross could tell she was smiling. The phaser lock alarm went off, too late-A shot hit Andross's wing dead on even as he was breaking port, his shields down to almost nothing. The little fighter shook and rattled hard, and Andross struggled to keep her on course.

_"That's a new one, I'll admit,"_ Chakotay said. _"I'll have to remember it."_

"Suref, help out Hajar," Andross ordered, banking hard. The Raider filled the space around him with phaser blasts.

"Professor, please," Andross called again,"stop this! Acting out of revenge-"

_"Acting out of revenge implies I want all Cardassians dead. That's not true,"_ Chakotay argued back._ "I want to defend my home and keep what happened to my father from ever happening again."_

"As a renegade? You keep this up, you won't have any support in the Federation!" Andross insisted, flipping back around to pump a barrage of phaser fire back. They hit where Chakotay's ship was only a moment before, the Maquis Raider having broke just in time. "The treaty is bad, but there are better ways to fix it than this!"

_"Evil prevails while good men do nothing,"_

Chakotay argued back, his own phaser fire coming uncomfortably close to Andross' cockpit._ "Selling out innocent people for a treaty the Cardassians are already violating is not what I signed up for!"_

"You said it yourself: Nothing is perfect! But we have a better chance to make it work or find a better way together! Not fighting one another!" Andross tried. He rolled too late-A phaser blast hit the nose of the fighter. "Gah! Keiko!"

"We lost our main sensors! I'm switching to back ups on the pods!" Keiko cried. "Also, while this conversation is very interesting and kind of hot-"

"Kind of _what_?" Andross muttered in disbelief.

"The cargo ship is launching torpedoes!" Keiko finished.

Chakotay's voice was surprised.

_"What?! I didn't order a launch! Paris, Seska, do you read me-?"_

Andross swung the fighter around, spotting the cargo ship easily. It was a silver gray brick, spitting out bright orange photon torpedoes like a flower ejecting pollen. Twenty, thirty, fifty of them…

"At us?" Andross asked Keiko. Keiko hissed.

"They're targeted at the colony," she said. "All of them."

The torpedoes shot past. Andross grit his teeth.

"Suref, can you assist?"

_"This last fighter is extremely difficult,"_

Suref replied. _"We can't get there in time!"_

Andross swung his ship around and activated the warp drive. Without the main sensors, he had to guess as to where to navigate to. He really hoped he was right. He tapped the key on the throttle… The stars stretched out and blurred around them. He tweaked the warpfield geometry and hit the thrusters, spinning them around on their axis. He cut the warp drive and the universe returned to normal…

With a starfield full of photon torpedoes screaming right at him.

"Do the targeting sensors on the pods still work?" Andross asked.

"Hang on," Keiko said. "They should… I need to get them back online…!"

"Keiko," Andross said warningly, as the torpedoes got bigger, and bigger…

"Almost there…!" Keiko insisted. "Be patient!"

"_Keiko_," Andross stated, his heart pounding in his ears. He was amazed he sounded so calm.

"Got it!" Keiko cried, and the targeting cursor appeared in his vision. He hit full reverse on the impulse drive, sorting through the nearest torpedoes and opening up on them with the microphotons. First one went up, then another, and another, the microphotons screaming at their larger brothers and taking both of them out in mutual destruction.

"Also, good news!" Keiko cried. "They're not targeting the colony anymore: They're after _us_!"

"_Great!_" Andross returned sarcastically.

One torpedo shot for them at full speed, and Andross broke upwards. He launched a microphoton and the torpedo went up, the shockwave shaking the fighter so hard he almost felt his teeth rattle. Andross pressed on, locking onto another torpedo and firing, and another, and another… Until the pods were spent.

"Twenty torpedoes still on course!" Keiko cried. Despite being cheap ones, they were swarming all around the Peregrine. Andross's phaser trigger finger stayed down hard, one torpedo after another glowing up in a burst of gamma rays and energy. Without the targeting sensors, he had to eyeball every shot: And that meant getting close.

He barely avoided another one, this skimming within proximity detonation range. For a moment, as it passed by, he thought he could see his life flash before his eyes.

The torpedo flew by, still intact. Andross swung around and hit full reverse, his phaser blast striking true. The Peregrine drifted, surrounded by the remnants of multiple antimatter warheads behind forcibly detonated. Its crew panting for breath.

"That… That's all of them," Keiko gasped in relief. "Chakotay's incoming!"

Andross was already tired, and stressed, and on the edge. But he still hit the throttle and turned to avoid another shot from the Raider. He swung around and flew right at the Raider, phasers blazing.

The Raider deftly avoided the barrage, and returned one of its own. Andross dodged that one too, and pulled hard into a turning fight with the Raider. Given the Peregrine's smaller mass and size, the Raider was at a disadvantage. This Chakotay knew, so he powered up and broke off, Andross still right with him.

"Suref, how are you?" Andross called.

_"Last fighter has been disabled. However, both our fighters are in no better shape,"_ Suref replied. _"We are heading towards you at impulse."_

_"You've gotten a lot better,"_ Chakotay broke the radio silence at last_, "you really have."_

"Professor… Chakotay, please," Andross tried again. "What's the point of continuing this fight? You know we have reinforcements coming. The mission is a failure. Save your people: Surrender."

_"Knowing your fight is hopeless doesn't deter a lot of people. In fact, it encourages them_," Chakotay replied. He broke suddenly, full reverse thrust. _"If you get knocked down again… You just get back up."_

Andross broke starboard, rising, and avoided Chakotay's phaser shot. He returned one of his own, a hit the larger Raider took on its shields.

"If the cause is just and _necessary_," Andross said. "The treaty may be unjust, but you just launched fifty torpedoes at a civilian colony. How is that going to help your cause? Your people?!"

_"Mistakes were made,"_ Chakotay admitted._ "But there is no choice here, Andross."_

"There's _always _a choice. It's always yours to make. Please, Chakotay," Andross pleaded, his voice breaking just a little. "I didn't have a choice to be an orphan. You didn't have a choice to lose your father. But you chose to teach me, chose to help me. Chose to do the right thing. Please… Choose it now."

There was a pregnant pause.

_"Are you sure this isn't the right thing?" _Chakotay asked, brittle now.

"Are you?" Andross countered.

The Raider abruptly engaged its warp engines and vanished in front of them. Andross grit his teeth: The sensors were down, he had nothing to go on for targeting…

Save one thing.

He tilted up and to starboard, and squeezed the trigger. And just as he did, the Raider reappeared, its own phasers locked on and firing. The Peregrine was hit in its main engines, and only an emergency plasma vent by Keiko kept the vessel from going up into a fireball. The Raider took a shot right in its own sensors and power distribution systems, and its lights went dark.

The two ships hung in space, both crippled. Andross was breathing hard, dripping in sweat, as he tried to keep the ship steady. The master alarm was shrieking in his helmet, so he turned it off.

_"... I was hoping you'd fall for that trick again,"_

Chakotay said at last, a faint note of pride in his tight voice.

"I didn't," Andross retorted.

_"No,"_ Chakotay said, a sad chuckle on his lips. _"However: Your weapons and engines are down."_

"Your shields and weapons are gone," Andross stated back. "And I've got friends coming."

_"I'm glad you do,"_ Chakotay said. _"I'm glad you take such good care of them. As for me… I need to take care of mine."_

"Professor," Andross said, "please. Just-"

_"It doesn't matter how many times you ask, Andross. I won't do it. We're beyond words now," _Chakotay stated harshly._ "I'm not your teacher anymore. If you're going to keep enforcing this treaty, you're my enemy. But you don't have to be. Join us. You saved this colony: You can keep us from going too far. We need men like you, to remind us of things other than hate and loss."_

Andross was silent for a time. He had to admit, there was a brief temptation.

"Every man has a choice," he finally said. "This is mine… No matter the consequences."

He could almost see Chakotay's slow nod. _"I understand."_

Andross supposed he really did.

The Raider turned and flew off, managing a limping warp jump out to the other Raider. It jumped to the two fighters, before one last jump took it to the cargo ship. Then, having finished its task, it jumped to warp, heading out of the system. Andross let out a breath: Long and deflating, as he felt like he'd just melt.

Then...

_"This is USS _Bradbury _to Chevalier Flight, do you read?"_ A starship captain announced over the communications. Andross hit the receive button.

"This is Bran, of Chevalier Flight. Our lead has been disabled, the rest of us aren't in much better shape. Would appreciate assistance."

_"Acknowledged. We were able to monitor the fight from outside the system_," the captain said. He let out a low whistle. _"That was some scrap… You did great."_

"Thank you," Andross replied. He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the stars. He felt Keiko's hand rest on his shoulder.

"You did all you could," Keiko consoled. Andross slowly nodded.

"Maybe I did," he said. He sighed. "It wasn't enough."

"No," Keiko said, "but it's like you both said: It's your choice to make."

"But who made the wrong one?" Andross asked softly, staring out into the stars. Keiko squeezed his shoulder.

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" She asked. Andross managed a nod. "But personally, I'm glad you didn't choose him."

"Oh? Why?" Andross asked, craning his neck to look into Keiko's face. She was smiling pleasantly.

"Because then I'd have to shoot you with my phaser," she said cheerfully. "I'd hate to lose my favorite test pilot."

Andross managed a chuckle at that. Keiko kept smiling. His chuckled slowly died.

"... Please tell me that was a joke," Andross asked. Keiko tilted her head, beaming like a sun.

"I guess we'll never know: Will we?"

* * *

**More to come. And no, Tom Paris was not killed. **


	9. Chapter 9

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

_USS _Bradbury_, NX-72307_

_Return Trip to Federation Space_

* * *

The _Bradbury _was an experimental heavy cruiser design, a double hulled vessel with a large, oval-shaped saucer to mate them together. The nacelles were integrated into the two hulls, presenting a small, tight profile yet with plenty of hangar and cargo space. Andross was frankly shocked they'd managed to get a ship this big allowed into the Demilitarized Zone: Usually that paperwork took months, yet here she was, an angel of mercy. Their tractor beam brought them in to the large, well lit and busy aft shuttlebay, and the antigravs managed to bring them in softly onto the deck. The real turbulence greeted them the moment the canopy opened and Andross had helped Keiko out of the backseat.

"Officers, put Mister Gottschalk and Miss Matsunaga under arrest!"

Andross turned around, greeted by goldshirts flanking Amati. Trailing behind the irate Frenchman was little Mychol, looking awkward. Amati glared and pointed his finger like a phaser, hitting between his eyes.

"Oh what is this bullshit?" Keiko asked quite loudly.

"You disobeyed my orders, and you fitted my ship with defective equipment!" Amati bellowed. "You might have gotten us all killed!"

Andross took a deep breath. He tried to count to ten. He saw Suref, Hajar, Ro'ad and Zohnuld coming up from their own fighters. Hajar in particular looked livid.

"You and your stupid, primitive twenty-first century nonsense! You're no better than a cavewoman!" Amati continued. Andross instinctively gripped Keiko's arm, keeping her from lunging at Amati.

"Sir, I think this is the kind of thing to talk about in private, without security, with a senior officer," Suref tried attempted. Hajar, a young human woman with brunette hair, was less calm.

"He saved our butts and you try to blame him for your own incompetence?!" Hajar asked in outrage. "How dare you-!"

"Shut it Hajar! You'll get yours too for being useless!" Amati snarled. He turned back to Andross, who was mentally counting to ten. He had a defense, he was going to try to reason with him-

"And you, Gottschalk! You're lucky you didn't kill more civilians! Like last time-!"

And with Amati's last shout, he was already balling his fists. Andross glared right back into Amati's eyes, angry enough that even Amati took a step back. He took another step forward, ready to throw a punch and knock out every tooth in that smug, sanctimonious mouth even as he began his rant.

"You stupid, lying, incompetent sack of-!"

_"STAND DOWN!"_ Shouted a commanding voice, and Andross pulled his fist back. The other people on the deck scattered or stood at attention, as Commander Shran strode down the deck like as avenging god. He was furious, his eyes filled with thunder. Andross found himself standing at attention, like a first year cadet again.

"Sirs," Amati began, "these two-They disobeyed my orders and fitted my ship with defective equipment-"

"He's a lying stupid son of a-!" Andross erupted, but at Shran's glare he shut up. That glare was turned onto Amati, but Andross still kept his lip buttoned.

"First rule of good command, Mister Amati," Shran practically growled, "is that you _don't _humiliate your subordinates when they've just returned from grueling combat saving your life."

Amati gaped. "S-Sir, but-!"

"Mister Amati," Shran resumed, "I reviewed the sensor and communications logs myself. Would you like to know what I saw?" He asked. Amati shook his head.

"Ah, s-sir, I-"

"I saw you _immediately _threaten the opposing forces, without even attempting to talk them down," Shran thundered, "despite someone who _personally _knew their leader with you! You never _considered _letting him talk to try and defuse the situation!"

"But I-"

"Then," Shran continued, as though Amati had not even spoken, "_you _charged ahead and _failed _to properly execute the Cochrane Deceleration Maneuver. You utilized prototype equipment, that had barely finished testing." He turned his eyes onto Keiko. "Chief Warrant Officer Matsunaga, did you provide Mister Amati with instructions on the operation of the pods?"

"Yes sir, I did," Keiko replied, "and I gave Mychol over there instructions on how to operate things properly!"

"Ensign Jin," Shran said, his gaze turning to the little Tullian, "did Chief Matsunaga provide you with instructions for safe operation of the equipment?"

Mychol looked like a nervous wreck. Still, he steeled himself, even with Amati's glare on him.

"Y-Yes sir," Mychol immediately replied. "She even talked me through the powerup sequence. Then the commander ordered me to skip it, and power it up to full."

"Ah! You can't do that!" Keiko interjected. "It overloaded the pods!"

Amati sputtered.

"W-Well then it-I mean he must have done it wrong!" The lieutenant commander cried, even as Mychol winced. "It was defective, _he _was defective-!"

"_Mister Amati_," Shran stated, cold as ice and heavy as a glacier. "_You _are the one who initiated hostilities. _You _are the one who charged ahead, alone, without telling your squadron your intentions. _You _are the one who ordered these pods fitted to your ship and did not operate them properly according to instructions by their creator. _You _are the one who put yourself out of commission with a stupid stunt and it was _Lieutenant Gottschalk_ who took command and not only kept the squadron intact, he also prevented the massacre of over _fifteen thousand_ Cardassian civilians. The only one disputing these facts is _you_."

Amati probably did the smartest thing he had in his entire life, and kept silent, his lips as thin as a nanofiber. Shran shook his head.

"Two centuries ago, had you been a member of the Andorian Guard I would have been well within my rights to toss you right through that forcefield into hard vaccuum," Shran stated, slow and hard as he pointed at the stars beyond. Amati winced. "A century ago, in Starfleet, you'd have been clapped in irons and locked in the brig. Now?"

"Now, sir?" Amati managed. Shran sighed.

"This is my responsibility," he stated. "You were clearly not ready for this responsibility, or for this command. So I'll make it simple." He reached out and grasped a pip on Amati's collar. He pulled it off, ignoring Amati's wince. "You are demoted to Lieutenant, and restricted to select duties until the outcome of the inquiry. Hopefully, what I've done will be enough, no further punishment required." Shran grasped Amati's shoulders and glared at him right in the eyes. "In the meantime, I suggest you accept the fact that the only one to blame for this is you. That makes the solution easy: You have to fix you." Shran let him go, and stepped back. "Now go to the guest quarters and stay there. And these gentlemen will accompany you. Dismissed!"

Amati nodded slowly, turned away, and headed for the hangar bay exit looking like a whipped puppy. The goldshirts followed, looking bemused.

Then Shran turned his glare onto Andross, who found he couldn't stand up any straighter. Though Lord knows he tried.

"Mister Gottschalk," Shran said, "the communications logs reveal that you tried to talk down Chakotay repeatedly. Is that true?"

"Yes sir," Andross replied.

"That he offered membership in the Maquis to you?" Shran further inquired. Andross stiffened, and Suref stepped forward.

"Sir, may I point out-" The Vulcan began.

"You may _not_," Shran stated curtly, and Suref fell silent. "Well Gottschalk?"

"Yes sir, he did," Andross said.

"And you refused?" Shran further inquired.

"Yes sir," Andross replied. Shran raised his pale brows.

"You didn't attempt pursuit after disabling his vessels. Or order pursuit. Why?" Shran asked. Andross steeled himself.

"I had two combat capable fighters left. Two of my ships were disabled. The mission was accomplished: Their heavy ordnance had been intercepted and the colony was safe. To pursue them at this stage would risk my squadron's lives."

Shran nodded. "I see." He sighed, long and hard. "Well. Since I'm down one squadron lead already, looks like I'll need a new one. And seeing as you can do the job under the most stressful circumstances, I guess it'll have to be you." He reached up, the pip he'd taken from Amati in his fingers. He pinned it onto Andross' collar. Andross blinked, and reached up to touch the pips. Making sure they were real. Keiko whistled and grinned.

"I… Thank you sir," Andross managed. Shran snorted.

"Don't _thank _me. The more pips you have, the more paperwork, the more headaches, and the more _shavit _you have to put up with. Pray to whatever gods you believe in you never get three pips. Or God forbid, _four_. You'll wish you'd gone into _botany_." Shran looked over at Keiko, who held up her hands.

"Hey, don't look at me. I don't want a promotion! But more lab space, if you could manage it?"

"As much as I know I'm probably going to regret it, yes," Shran stated dryly, and Keiko whooped. The big Andorian turned around to the rest of the flight section members. "You're all dismissed. Get acquainted with your new squadron lead: You're going to need it."

Shran turned and headed off. The rest of the squadron closed in on Andross, Suref leading. He extended his hand, and Andross took it.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant," he stated. "I am sure you will perform your role adequately."

"Thanks Suref," he replied. Hajar was next, patting him on the shoulder with a smile.

"Thanks for the assist," she said.

Ro'Ad gave a big, toothy grin, which was a bit unsettling to humans but Andross knew the Gallamite was pleased.

"Couldn't wait for that blowhard to get what was coming to him," Ro'Ad said. Zira Zohnuld, a pretty green Orion woman, gave him a sensuous grin and wink.

"Well congrats, you just became interesting," she purred. At Hajar's elbow jab, she pouted. "I mean, good on you, sir."

"Thanks," Andross said. He looked over at Mychol, the little Tullian awkward. Keiko soon walked up to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"You did great!" She said happily. "Tell me, what do you know about a show called 'Macross'?"

"Nothing," the Tullian admitted. Keiko practically squealed.

"Then there's no time to lose! We must binge watch it immediately! Come on!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him off. Andross shook his head, glancing over at Suref as the rest of the squadron grinned or snickered.

"I'm kind of glad to have her attention off me," he said. Suref raised an eyebrow.

"I find that unlikely," he stated. Andross blinked, still smirking.

"Was… That a joke?" He asked. Suref raised both eyebrows and made a slight shrug.

"After a fashion, sir," he said.

Andross sighed, chuckling a bit. "I think we're going to get on fine, you and I. I say we get some drinks and help out poor Mychol. Do you agree?"

"You are squadron lead, after all," Suref said. Andross nodded to the rest of the pilots and officers, who turned and followed the energetic Japanese woman and the hapless Tullian. Suref paused a moment.

"I am sorry you were unsuccessful in your negotiations with Chakotay, sir."

Andross's smile faded. He looked out at the stars. He took a deep breath.

"So am I," he said.

_I made my choice… So did he._

He turned back to the Vulcan. "Well… Let's not keep them waiting."

"Yes sir," Suref replied.

"You know, you don't have to call me that," Andross pointed out as they made for the hangar bay doors. "We're off duty."

"Of course sir," Suref replied. Andross sighed, his fingers reaching up to his pips.

That damn Andorian: Did he always have to be right?

* * *

_**Maquis Base, The Badlands**_

_**2370**_

Mining equipment allowed you to make an asteroid livable, but not much more than that. The empty caves and tunnels were kept breathable by force fields, duracrete sealing, and hydroponics bays. The heat from the generators was moved through radiators and warming systems to keep the temperature above freezing. Ice was melted and filtered for water, for drinking or bathing and almost got the metallic flavor out of it. And artificial gravity nets made it possible to walk or float around as needed.

It was possible to live here, yes, Chakotay reflected. He had to admit though, it was a mean, barebones and desperate kind of life. Even the modest decor he'd added felt out of place in the drab surroundings, as he sat in his quarters and contemplated his medicine bundle.

It was the only thing he'd found intact among the ruins of his father's home on Trebus. His father Kolopak, the community shaman, sometimes leader, and teacher. The guide to so many, the intermediary between the living and spirit world and in navigating the tricky pitfalls of morality. A role Chakotay was expected to take, had been brought up to take. Yet Starfleet had called too strongly, and so he'd gone out among the stars. His father had never approved, and so they hadn't spoken. Hadn't reconciled, until the Cardassians had sent Kolopak off to the other side.

Chakotay wondered what his father would think of him now. Drawing on what he had rejected for strength, following his own path and rejecting the Starfleet and Federation he'd run away to.

Being a father and teacher to a young man he now had to call his enemy.

"You wanted to see me?" A proud female voice announced herself at the door. Chakotay looked up.

Seska was a Bajoran, but unlike many of the curvy members of the female half of that species she was skinny and slight. Ramrod straight, all angles, with cold, hard eyes. Yet this was a side she presented to everyone else: At times, she could be quite warm. He stood up, eyes locked on hers. A regenerative bandage pack was on her left arm, and another small one on her forehead.

"Who fired off the torpedoes?" He asked. "I explicitly ordered not to fire until my command."

Seska shrugged. "Maybe Paris panicked. The rest of the crew was killed when that plasma conduit blew."

"B'Elanna told me that conduit was secure," Chakotay stated evenly. Seska sighed, shaking her head.

"She's a decent engineer, Chakotay, and my friend… But let's be honest. Some days she couldn't identify shit with a tricorder," she stated bluntly. Chakotay scowled, but nodded. For all of her talent, the half-Klingon girl was very short tempered and easily frustrated. Things that easily led to mistakes.

"All right. After the conduit blew, what happened?"

Seska tensed mildly.

"I was separated from the cockpit," Seska said smoothly, her hands clasped tight behind her back. "I tried to raise Paris but he must have been knocked out at some point after he launched the torpedos: We got shook up so much I nearly broke an arm. I couldn't get past the plasma leak, and I don't think you'd have wanted me to risk the transporters."

"No," Chakotay admitted, and Seska nodded in affirmation. "But we lost Paris. They captured him. He was a good pilot."

"He was also an idiot, just in it to escape or to get back at his dear old dad," Seska snorted. "We can afford to lose someone with untrustworthy motives. And he didn't know anything important, so the Federation won't get anything out of him."

"I guess we'll have to see, won't we?" Chakotay sighed. He fixed Seska with a phasers beam thin look. "That said, if those torpedoes had hit-"

"If they did, that's thousands of fewer Cardassians around to rape, murder and pillage innocent worlds," Seska practically growled, her voice hard and bitter. Chakotay held back a sigh. He hated the Cardassian military for murdering his father. Seska had to live with their occupation murdering and destroying her homeworld for sixty years.

It was hard to have an argument on morality with that much pain. So he approached it differently.

"If they had, we'd lose any possible support we might have in the Federation," Chakotay pointed out. Seska snorted. "And we need that."

"You can't expect to fight this war without getting your hands dirty," Seska stated emphatically, her eyes locked onto his. Chakotay allowed himself a nod.

"Maybe. But there are lines I'm not willing to cross," he stated. Seska arched her brow.

"And if it comes down to us, or that boy you taught? Will you cross that line?"

Chakotay bit down an angry retort. He took a deep breath.

"It won't come to that," Chakotay said slowly. Seska huffed, walking up close to Chakotay.

"Are you sure?" She asked. Chakotay shook his head, that old protective feeling rising in him again.

"He's young and inexperienced. I taught him everything he knows-"

"And he managed to ruin our entire plan and disable most of our ships," Seska pointed out.

"He was holding back," Chakotay argued. "He was sentimental."

Seska glared.

"And you weren't?" She shot, striking true. Chakotay raised his hackles.

"The more people we kill, the harder it is to get support-!"

"Hang your support!" Seska growled back. "We're not running a public relations firm, Chakotay! He's a good pilot, and he's getting better all the time! Good enough that he might outclass you eventually." She took a deep breath. "Unless you nip him in the bud."

"I can't kill one of my own students, Seska," Chakotay retorted, the truth coming out at last. Seska glared back.

"He's not your student now, Chakotay! He's your enemy! We're your allies! Your friends!" She looked aside, and pressed her slim body against him. "Maybe… More than that," she said, her voice becoming warmer and less hostile. Chakotay hesitated a moment, before holding her back.

"Yes, you are," Chakotay said. "Do you trust me?"

Seska snorted. "What sort of question is-"

"Do. You. Trust me?" Chakotay asked. Seska sighed, nuzzling his broad chest.

"Of course I do," she said softly. "But this is bothering you. And it is a risk. And you appreciate honesty."

"I do," Chakotay admitted, his hands roaming her body. "So trust me when I say: It won't come to that. I can deal with him."

Seska sighed softly, nuzzling him back. "Then I suppose I have no choice but to take your word, hm?"

"That's all any of us have to go on," Chakotay admitted, leading her to the bed. Time to think about things other than their desperate circumstances.

Time to think about things other than the young man who'd tried so hard to reach out to him.

In the end, that was the only thing they had.

* * *

**_Outpost 444, Valo II, Bajoran Sector_**

**_2370_**

The full debriefing and report had only taken a few hours when they'd arrived back on Valo II: A bit rough but ultimately not as terrible as Andross thought it would be. A few hours of boredom was almost pleasant after the nerve wracking combat he'd been in. He was still exhausted, but no more than he'd been at the beginning.

Watching some of that Macross show had actually been pretty good, too. Though Keiko's excitement often gave away important plot twists and events. It hadn't been too bad of an experience.

One, maybe, that he could get used to.

So naturally, when he laid down to sleep, his communicator had to beep. He groaned softly, and reached out of his bed to tap the commbadge on his night table.

"Gotsschalk here."

"Lieutenant, Zira here," the pretty Orion spoke, sounding excited and nervous. "Sir, would you mind coming out to the hanger bay for a few minutes?"

Andross smothered a groan into his pillow. "Can't it wait until morning?"

"Ah, well, maybe sir… But um, since it's kind of important, could you please just come? It'll be really quick, I promise!" Zira insisted. Andross sighed, and rubbed his face. He took a deep breath.

"...Fine. Give me a few minutes," he acquiesced. He got up, pulled on a uniform, and headed out into the hallway. He took the stairs down to the lobby, and walked out onto the base proper. It was night, one of the planet's large moons glowing brightly overhead. Naturally, people were still at work: moving cargo in trucks, doing maintenance, or prepping shuttles and fighters. People who hadn't spent all day fighting their former friends and mentors in pitched battle.

Andross wondered if he would now envy them. The people who didn't have the same excitement in his life. Despite everything Andross had gone through, he didn't feel that. He didn't know what it meant.

He kept walking during this brooding, finally ending up at the large main hangar across from the living and administration annexes. He scanned the hangar and spotted a hint of bright green. There she was, Zira Zohnuld, proudly standing on the cradle gantry of his Peregrine. Master Chief Petty Officer Bein "Pops" Heucke was standing by her, the old Tellarite looking amused through his long white beard.

"Flight Officer, Pops," Andross said politely, as he walked up to the edge of the cradle his fighter was nestled in, "what's up?"

Zira spread her arms and posed like a gameshow girl, smile glinting in the light of the hanger lamps. "What do you think?" She chirped.

Andross walked around and up the ladder to the gantry, his eyes following Zira's arms. The bent part of the fighter's wing slowly came into view, but for a moment his sleep addled brain saw just darkness and a weird white scribble. He got up onto the gantry, looked down and his mind put it together.

Two large white femur bones, common to humanoids, were crossed underneath a rather plain looking humanoid skull. The fighter's ID number was printed underneath the bones on a bright yellow band across the wingtip, along with the squadron number and name:

477th Tactical Starfighter Squadron, the Jolly Rogers.

"... I'd almost forgotten," he admitted. Zira made a face.

"Yeah, can you believe it? They give us this cool name and cool symbol but we're not allowed to paint it onto our ships? Well, Amati didn't allow it."

"It's not technically against the regulations, thank the gods," Pops intoned. "The idiots running Starfleet didn't erase everything good about it."

Andross nodded. "And Macross…"

"That weird show reminded me," Zira admitted. "I looked through the database: Apparently the original squadron had livery like this from before the Romulan Wars. All our fighters did!"

Andross allowed himself a grin. "And you want to put it onto every ship in our squadron?" He asked.

"Yes!" Zira said cheerfully, bouncing in interesting ways. Ways he was too tried to appreciate, if he was honest.

"Without my permission," Andross pointed out. Zira paused, and her smile became awkward. Pops laughed hard, making the pretty Orion scowl at him.

"W-Well, I just assumed he'd be all right with it!" She insisted. "Especially this late at night-"

"You're kind of shit at this manipulating thing, for an Orion girl," Pops laughed. She flushed a darker green and scowled at him. She waved her hand, expressing her irritation.

"Usually it's not this hard!"

Andross was laughing too. It felt good.

"It's okay, it's okay!" He said. "I like it." He glanced over at Pops. "And I take it there's nothing to stop us from doing it to the rest of our fighters?"

Pops chuckled. "No. Shran's not going to object. And after this Maquis shavit, we need something to boost morale."

Yeah. Even though everyone had been tired, it was clear tensions were running high. Especially when Shran had to answer any questions about what he'd been up to during the mission. Apparently he'd been involved at something at the Bryma Colony, but nothing had come out. He couldn't imagine it was much better than his experience.

The prisoner they'd taken, Tom Paris, the disgraced son of the great Starfleet Admiral Paris, hadn't helped things either.

Andross nodded. "Then by all means, Zira: Get painting."

Zira beamed. "Yes sir!"

"After," he stated, making her pause, "you get some sleep."

Zira pouted. "I do my best work at night," she huffed.

"Not a surprise," Pops grunted. Zira threw a paintbrush at him, but the big Tellarite just laughed harder even as the paint spilled down the front of his uniform. He scooped up some and threw it back, splatting Zira's chest. She cried out in indignation. As Pops kept laughing though, she soon joined in. Andross went along because maybe he was damn tired… But he needed this. So did the squadron, if he was honest.

For a first order as a squadron leader? It wasn't too bad at all, in his opinion.

* * *

_That's it for Andross's mission. Next time? Keiko._


	10. Chapter 10

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

**_OTV-561 _Aurora_, Enroute to American Lunar Colony Tranquility Base_**

_**2053**_

* * *

The Earth/Moon roundtrip was routine by now. Zero gravity toilets, the occasional flashes of solar wind hitting your optical nerves while you tried to sleep, and the lingering smell of farts in the air recyclers. Everything she'd studied and worked hard to experience, because space was the future.

Doctor Matsunaga Keiko believed this firmly, with all her fiery heart could muster. And sure, it wasn't a mobile suit but you couldn't have everything all at once, right?

Given the nature of the conflict on Earth between the Allies and the Eastern Coalition, it was looking more and more likely that they'd need another world soon. Most of Europe, a few key places in Asia, the Middle East and a fair amount of Africa and South America had fallen to the ECON: Promises of genetically and cybernetically controlled populaces had seduced so many dictators and revolutionaries. Yet all of them had become nothing more than slaves. Slaves to Colonel Green, a eugenicist monster who kept court in what had been the Hague.

The Orbital Defense Network had kept them in check, from making the final push. A joint effort between the free nations and the nations that didn't want to be slaves to Colonel Green, it was hundreds of laser and kinetic missile armed satellites in the orbitals of Earth. And right now, they were on their way to deploy the next batch around the colonies on the Moon.

Keiko was reviewing the design schematics and the activation procedures for the satellites-Each named after one of her favorite mecha. She was fortunate the head of the project was just as big a Super Robot Wars fan as her.

A head poked its way into her little alcove, as she was wrapped up in her sleeping bag. She typed furiously, the lights flashing against her glasses.

"Can I help you, Dwayne?" She asked. The other technician gripped onto the edges of the alcove, looking nervous.

"Um, Doctor Matsunaga, we need you in the cockpit," he said. Keiko looked up from her screen, eyes narrowed.

"Look: I'm not floating all the way up just to hear something you can tell me now. So what is it?" She demanded.

"I-I just… I just…" Dwayne was deeply shaken, and Keiko immediately regretted her harsh words. She reached out and gripped his shoulder.

"Dwayne? What is it?" She asked. She checked over on her news feed… And it was being flooded. Endless posts from a single source. Her eyes widened.

"Okay, maybe I can float to the cockpit," she decided.

The view was not much better up there. The pilot, Kurosawa Renji, was staring, pale as a ghost, at the flatscreens. Keiko floated up behind him, and took hold of the back of his seat.

"Renji?" She asked. "Renji?" She looked up, and bit her lower lip. The talking head was terrified, gripping his papers hard. Why they bothered with hardcopy anymore, Keiko had never figured out.

_"To repeat: Reports are coming in from civilian satellites and from official government release, it is confirmed: The Eastern Coalition has declared war against the Allied Nations, launching from their ICBM sites across West Russia, Northern China, and Eastern Europe. The Department of Defense has ordered full military deployment of the Orbital Defense System and unlocked all defense networks. We repeat, take shelter or begin evacuation immediately if you are in the following cities…"_

Keiko took a deep breath. "Shit," she muttered.

"Five minutes ago," Renji said. "I double checked with our satellites."

Keiko was anxious, yes. It was natural, when hundreds of intercontinental missiles were even now streaking for your homelands. Yet she couldn't help her smile.

"Don't worry guys," she said, throwing an encouraging look back at Dwayne. "I mean, this is what we're _here_ for. This is what we worked for. In four minutes, those missiles are going to be turned into harmless clouds of debris by the satellites. Then we'll go Akira on Colonel Green's ass, vaporize him from orbit, and his little gene puppets are going to be _begging_ for peace." Her smile grew, her confidence rising.

"You think so?" Dwayne asked. Keiko nodded.

"Exactly! Exactly! I don't know why that asshole decided to try this shit now, but he's screwed." Keiko grinned, reaching out to squeeze Renji's shoulder. He managed a little smile himself. "And we're gonna be heroes!"

"R-Right," Renji said, nodding with a smile. "Heroes."

Another four minutes passed. Renji checked the satellite feeds.

"... Keiko… They aren't firing," he said. Keiko blinked.

"Excuse me?" She asked. "They're not firing?!"

"Maybe it's delayed," Dwayne suggested. He moved into the co-pilot's seat-Or tried, but Keiko beat him to it. She logged into the satellite uplink.

"Why are they not firing… They're not even-!" She began calling up the command list. "It says they're firing. Are they?"

"According to the observation satellites… No," Renji said. He looked over at Keiko, eyes wide. "Are we-What's wrong?"

"Is the ground station reporting the same thing? Are they reporting it to the DoD? To anyone?!" Keiko demanded. "Find out! FIND OUT NOW!" She looked over at Dwayne. "Start activating the backups!"

"Yes Doctor!" Dwayne responded, getting back to another computer console.

Renji tapped into the military communications net, while Keiko tried to get into the satellite network. Every time she tried to activate a satellite, the system responded it was functioning just fine-And yet nothing happened.

"This doesn't make any sense!" She raged. "Renji!"

"They've been trying the reactivation codes-Nothing's happening!" Renji shouted back. "The President's activated the network with the orbital football-Nothing's shooting!"

"Okay," Keiko sighed. "We've tried rebooting the computers, we've tried the backdoors, it's not working…" Her fingers paused. "Sabotage," she immediately deduced. "But where? In what-"

"Keiko!" Dwayne called. "I've got it! I've checked every satellite in the network and I've found it! AMS-47! It's too heavy!"

Keiko isolated the satellite in question, and looked over the diagnostics. It was too heavy, and judging from the accelerometers the weight was right over the CPU.

"Parasite microsat?! But it can't be that small!" Dwayne gasped. "There's no way it could-"

"They did, and it's the only explanation," Keiko said grimly. "How long until the missiles start hitting their targets?"

"Ten minutes for Japan and Britain, fifteen for targets in the Americas and Australia," Renji replied, a scared, sickly laugh leaving his mouth. "Th-They're launching the counterstrike right now-"

"We still have enough time to get these online and stop this!" Keiko insisted. She began typing furiously. "We just have to self-destruct the satellite and reset the network!"

"How?" Dwayne asked. "We're running out of time-!"

"I'll figure it out!" Keiko barked. "Just help me!"

"I've got the laser comms ready! The satellite's coming up!" Renji said.

"Locking in the laser comm," Dwayne stated. "Getting return signal, I…"

"It's targeting us!" Renji shouted. He pushed the throttle on the rocket-One powerful enough to boost the ship all the way out to Mars, if necessary. "Keiko! Keiko, get in there and turn it off!"

"I'm trying!" Keiko replied, lines of data dancing before her eyes as her fingers went all over the keyboard. The code kept changing, the AI of the parasite nanosat fighting her every single time! No, she could beat this! She could stop this, she had to-!

"It's firing-!" Renji bellowed, and the ship rocked hard. Keiko held onto her seat, the restraints holding her in tight. Renji kept fighting with the ion engine, even as one of the fuel tanks went up in a massive blast. Dwayne was tossed around, having forgotten to strap in due to nerves. He grabbed onto a harness, holding on for dear life.

"It's charging up for another shot!" Renji shouted. The blast struck another fuel tank. Renji grimaced. "Shit! Reactor's exposed! Another hit will melt us down!"

"Eject the engine module! Do it!" Keiko shouted. Renji nodded, and tapped in the sequence. He hit the final button, and the whole ship jolted and spun from the loss in mass. Renji hit the attitude controls, managing to right the ship and keep it from spinning-Keeping it pointed at the engine module behind. Another bright, strobe like flash and the module exploded, the laser hitting the reactor core. Keiko and Renji covered their eyes.

"Keiko! Can you get it fixed or not?" Renji cried urgently. "We're just at the edge of its laser now!" Keiko growled and ran through the data, one more time… She found a sequence she hadn't tried, entered it… She beamed.

"I've got it! Control established!" She cried. She set the reaction controls on the defense satellite to spin the AMS-47 at high speed. "Come on, come on…!"

"What are you making it do?" Dwayne asked.

"If I get it to spin too hard, the communications system will fail," she explained. "The comms fail, it can't control the rest of the network anymore! Reset it, and we're back in business!"

She could see warning messages all over her screen, as the satellite's electronics were put under more and more strain. She started up every system, maxing it out, to drive the heat up. She set the radiator system to go into test mode, ignoring the heat building up. Every sensitive piece of electronics in it had to be dying now. She checked the clock-five minutes until impact.

"Come on, come on, come on," she chanted, eyes locked onto the screen. "Come on!"

The terminal error failure lit up her screen. Any and all feeds from AMS-47 died. She grinned brightly.

"Reset the system! NOW!" She shouted. Dwayne was elated, as Renji cheered. Keiko let out a laugh herself. She'd saved the world, she'd saved the-

The ship was stuck again. The vessel tumbled frantically, and bright shiny debris filled the viewports like shards of glass. Her screen went dead, as did Renji's.

"Main power's off! Something hit us!" Renji shouted. "DWAYNE! Keiko, get back there!" His own screens lit back up and he again got to work trying to right the vessel. Keiko pulled her restraints off and grabbed onto a handhold, fighting nausea from the inertial difference. She crawled, keeping her eyes on the bulkhead of the ship. Dwayne crawled ahead of her, covering his mouth as he barfed up chunks that flew off into zero gee. He still made it to the next module, opening the hatch and pulling himself through. She followed, closing the hatch behind them. It locked firmly, and they both kept moving through the tunnels into the engineering module. It held the manual controls for the solar panels that kept the ship going.

The emergency batteries kept the screens online, but a quick look through the external cameras revealed the cause of the power disruption-Something hit one of the solar panels, crumpling it like the broken wing of a bird. Keiko quickly shut off the feed from the damaged panel, and ejected it. It spun away from the damaged Orpheus, another shudder and alarm going off.

"Damnit! Okay, okay, we've got power," she said. She looked through the rest of the diagnostics, her face becoming grimmer. "But the main recycler's been hit, we're on the tanks for air. We've got momentum but no main drive to slow us down… Maybe we can manage an orbit…" Her heart stopped.

"Keiko?" Dwayne asked. Keiko shook her head, adjusting her glasses with shaking hands.

"The comms array is gone," she whispered. The external cameras showed it all: The mast full of antennas and dishes had been ripped clean away. Dwayne's lips thinned. Keiko took a deep breath.

"What… What if they don't-?" Dwayne asked, but Keiko cut him off.

"There's enough smart people back home that can reset the system," she said firmly. "Enough people… Maybe…" She hit the intercom. "Renji? Renji, it's Keiko. We've got power, but we've lost a lot. I've done the rough math, we might manage an orbit around the moon. What do you think?"

Silence greeted her. Keiko frowned, and hit the intercom again.

"Renji? Renji, are you there?" She checked the internal comms-No, that seemed to be working. A horrible thought occurred, and she switched the external camera view of the cockpit module. She sucked in a deep breath.

"Oh God," Dwayne murmured.

A large, gaping hole, the size of a bowling ball, was in one of the cockpit's viewports. A very recent development judging from the debris still floating like a cloud of dust surrounding it. Keiko checked the internal sensors in the cockpit: They all read zero pressure, and zero oxygen. Her fingers gripped the screen, as she breathed hard, in and out.

"We… We have the telescope feed still," Dwayne managed. "Maybe… Maybe it's back online. Maybe they fixed it!"

Keiko nodded. Renji was a friend, but he would sacrifice himself to save the Earth. He had, hadn't he?

The telescope feed came online, showing Earth. Still the bright blue marble the Apollo astronauts had described, even with everything that had happened. Everything humans did. She saw the familiar shape of her homeland, and zoomed in as far as she could.

Keiko could make out the large, bustling metropolis of Tokyo, her home city. The Nerima Ward, where she'd grown up. Reading manga, playing video games, working on motors and drones and dreaming of a life among the stars. Where her older brother had walked her to school, her father taken her on piggyback rides. Her mother had cooked her dinner, her little sisters had stolen her toys and they'd fought over them, many times. So many times, all flashing in her mind as she prayed, prayed that fate was kind. Prayed that she had done it…

A bright flash nearly blinded her, and she looked away. She kept her eyes shut tightly, trying to convince herself it was just a malfunction with the telescope. Catching a reflection of sunlight off something. Dwayne's horrified murmurs made her open her eyes and turn back.

The city was engulfed by a gigantic cloud, spreading over it. She could just make out shockwaves screaming at the edges. Massive plumes of heat erupted, red and white hot fires so huge they were visible from space.

A part of her, cold and disconnected, calculated the force of the explosion-fifty megatons, at least. The chances of survival within twenty miles of the epicenter was in the single digits.

"Keiko?" Dwayne murmured from somewhere to her right. "Keiko? I… Are you…" He trailed off, realizing the stupidity of his words. She really couldn't blame him though.

There was nothing to say. She didn't know if there would be anything to say ever again.

* * *

_More to come._


	11. Chapter 11

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

**_Federation Starbase Deep Space Nine, Bajoran Sector_**

**_2370_**

The mechanical groan of the airlock rolling out of the way was clearly in Keiko's ears as the hatch opened. It locked and secured itself automatically, sounds soon covered by the bustle and conversations of the Promenade. She was bumped slightly from behind, and she got walking, stepping out onto the large, open space of Deep Space Nine's inner ring. She looked over her shoulder, a little annoyed at the brightly smiling Zira as the rest of the people waiting with them shuffled out and spread into the crowds.

"Daydreaming?" The Orion woman asked. Keiko shook her head.

"No, just… Thinking," she admitted. "The airlock cycle sounds different. I might have to take that into account for the assessment." She immediately had her PADD out, and was taking notes. She'd agreed to do a tactical assessment on Deep Space Nine for Commander Shran, with the hopes of learning how to better defend it against a possible attack: The 477th Squadron, after all, was the closest help if the station got into trouble.

Zira smoothly moved in front of her and rested her green hands over Keiko's. The Japanese human looked up at her with a scowl.

"You know, you don't have to immediately start work," Zira advised. " We're technically on leave, after all. Maybe you could relax a little first?" She smiled mischievously. "I'm meeting the rest of the Squadron at Quark's. Why not come along? Try a holosuite?"

"I'm not immediately starting work, I'm just taking some notes," Keiko protested, pulling her hands back. The Orion woman frowned as people moved around them. The human smiled back.

"But a drink does sound good," she said. Zira beamed happily, and took Keiko by the hand. She began to lead her on, around the Promenade.

"I'm glad," Zira said. "Usually I have to guilt Hajar into coming with me to do anything fun. I was worried you were a workaholic, with how you stay in your lab!"

"I am," Keiko admitted, "but only because it's fun."

Zira hummed and shrugged. "To each their own," she said. She grinned at Keiko a bit more widely. "But you could always stand to broaden your horizons a little."

They came to the entrance of the bar. It wasn't hard to find: The loud noises of laughing, arguing, drinking, and the dabo table all filtered out onto the Promenade. The vibrant, warm colors for the decor made it as a place to relax, and Keiko found herself approving.

"How so?" Keiko asked, as Zira led her in. They moved aside for a big Brunyg, who nodded politely as he went on by. "It's not like I have a shortage of entertainment."

The bar proper was crowded: Dozens of species, Federation and non, were drinking, eating, laughing, and talking at the bar. The Ferengi wait staff bustled everywhere, like scurry rodents in an ever changing maze of tables and patrons. Beautiful Bajoran women tended the dabo tables in shiny, revealing outfits, cheering on the gamblers. The smells of alien cooking and alcohol mixed together into a strange, pungent cloud-Not unpleasant, but ever present.

"Yes, but vids, holosuites, tinkering-It's all of a specific genre," Zira said, raising her eyebrows lavisciously. She turned to embrace Keiko and brought her face close to hers, staring into her eyes. Keiko blushed hard.

"After all," Zira murmured, "you never know what might happen in a holosuite with our dear new flight lead, hm?"

"Er," Keiko managed, her blush glowing hotter. She shook her head, too rapidly she thought. "We-We're just friends. Really."

"Keiko! Zira!"

Andross' voice broke through the clatter of Quark's. Keiko looked over Zira's shoulder: He was beaming and waving at her from a table, where Suref, Ro'ad, Mychol, and Hajar had gathered. Keiko smiled back and waved. Zira turned and waved as well, also smiling.

"You know, I don't just emit pheromones," Zira whispered as they headed for the table. "I also smell them. And right now you smell pretty interested… And I don't mean in me."

"Maybe I'm tempted to experiment," Keiko retorted quickly. Zira stopped their progress, and leaned in, her face getting close to Keiko's. The Japanese woman's face turned a brighter red as their noses touched, and their lips were getting closer… Closer…

"Ah! Stop!" Keiko sputtered, pulling away. Zira laughed, and patted Keiko on the shoulder.

"Never play gay chicken with an Orion, sweetie," she teased, smiling warmly. Keiko huffed, and glared at the table of pilots. They were all trying very hard not to stare, save for Mychol, who was a much darker blue than usual.

"I am the best!" Zira announced, holding up her hands in victory poses. Keiko collected herself, glaring a bit at the cocky Orion. Zira just smiled back, and took a seat in Suref's lap. The Vulcan blinked.

"Excuse me Flight Officer, I do not think this is appropriate-"

"You're very warm, Suref, so I'm fine where I am," Zira replied, shifting a bit to get comfortable. Ro'ad hooted a bit, and Hajar sighed. It was impossible not to notice she was trying to hide her smile though. This also left the seat next to Andross empty. Keiko noticed this easily, as did Andross. He smiled at her, and gestured to the chair.

"Come on, let's get some drinks!" He said. "You never know when a crisis might erupt and we all get pulled away."

"Ah," said a deep, male voice that made Keiko jump, "that is all too familiar."

Keiko spun around and smiled brightly. The tall, black man in civilian clothes smiled back, his white teeth gleaming.

"Commander Sisko!" Keiko said happily, reaching out to hug the tall man. He returned it, big burly arms wrapping her up in a warm hug. He laughed, patting her on the back. He pulled back, looking her over with some confusion in his eyes.

"Last I heard you were back at Utopia Planitia," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah," Keiko began, her eyes sliding to the left. Sisko's gaze became stony.

"Keiko," he said, disapprovingly. Keiko took a deep breath.

"Maybe it's something to discuss in private," she admitted. Sisko glanced over her shoulder, and slowly nodded.

"It would be good to catch up," he said. Keiko turned around and smiled apologetically: Her gaze focused mostly on Andross, who looked confused. Zira raised an eyebrow speculatively.

"Commander Sisko and I are old friends," she explained. "We're just going to catch up-Real fast, be right back!" She turned, and at Sisko's open hand gesture, she headed for the stairs to go up to the second level of the bar. Sisko followed, stopping only when she stopped at a small table overlooking the bar. She turned and sat down, clasping her hands together. Sisko sat down across from her, his expression grave.

"Well?" He asked. Keiko winced, looking at her hands.

"I… Might have lost my temper with the new project manager," she admitted quietly. Sisko raised his eyebrows.

"In what way?" He asked. Keiko rubbed her hands together, suddenly feeling chilly.

"In the… I punched him in the nose sort of way?" She admitted. Sisko sighed heavily, and it made Keiko wince to hear that sound.

"Keiko-"

"He was going to shut down the Defiant project and scrap it!" Keiko said defensively. "I tried arguing with him, endlessly! I really did! The project was already practically mothballed but we were still developing so much from it! Then he… He…"

"He?" Sisko prompted. Keiko looked down at her hands. She rubbed them together again.

"He… Mentioned World War 3, and… Asked if I was looking forward to repeating it," she murmured, quiet but angry. She glared up at Sisko. "You can't tell me he didn't have it coming!"

"No. He did," Sisko said gently, "but not from you. You report that to his superior, you don't just lash out." Sisko sighed. "What happened then?"

"Admiral Jin was in charge of the overall management. She agreed to keep it running in low preparation, given everything we've done but… Well, I had to leave," Keiko admitted. "And so, here I am."

Sisko sighed and shook his head slowly. "Keiko…"

Keiko's eyes narrowed. Yes, he was disappointed in her but damnit…!

"I can't believe these idiots keep getting positions of power!" Keiko hissed. "Over and over again they shove a bunch of holier than thou hippies into military projects!" She looked intensely at Sisko. "How many-How many more people have to die before these morons understand there are forces in the universe that you can't just make speeches at to stop them?!"

"I know, Keiko," Sisko growled low in his voice. "I know."

Keiko pulled back, biting her lower lip. After all… She knew full well what had brought Sisko onto the Defiant project.

"The trouble is," Sisko said, a bit more tightly but not as harsh as before, "you can't just change everyone immediately. You're up against almost a century of people who started to see Starfleet as a social club: A means of moving up in the world, not the organization responsible for defending the Federation and keeping it safe and free. Even the Borg aren't powerful enough to make that shift in the organization happen immediately." He leaned forward over the table. "More than that, we don't just fight: We also explore, do humanitarian aid, make first contact-"

"I know, I _know_!" Keiko insisted. "I would never say we have to stop doing that! The militaries of my time did that too… The good ones, anyway," she admitted. "But if we aren't able to do the job of protecting everyone, then what's the use of the rest of those missions?"

"'We sleep soundly in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm', I know," Sisko agreed, "but losing your temper and taking it out on these people doesn't help. All it does is relegate you to where you can't help anymore, all because you couldn't control _yourself_!"

Keiko glared back angrily at Sisko. Sisko returned the glare, steely and unbending. Keiko sighed, and closed her eyes tightly.

"... You're right," she admitted quietly. "You're right." She looked down. "It's just… I can't escape seeing… All that death."

"I know," Sisko said, reaching out to squeeze her hand tightly. "I _know_."

"I know you do," she said softly, squeezing his hand back. Sisko took a deep breath and sighed.

"You haven't failed, Keiko," he insisted. "The things we worked on the _Defiant_-Ablative armor, the power distribution systems, the shields, the engines, the quantum torpedo-They're all being introduced into the next generation of starships. You've done so much already, Keiko, despite everything that was thrown in our way. So why toss it away now?"

Keiko was silent for a while. Her eyes locked onto her hands, intertwined with Sisko's. She took a long, deep breath, and let it out. Only then did she speak.

"Because the tech isn't the problem, Ben," Keiko admitted. "It's the _people_. And I don't know how to fix them."

Sisko nodded, squeezing Keiko's hand back. He rested his other hand over hers, making her look up at him. "I know. It's never been easy for you. It's not easy for us either though. We all have our own struggles. But you don't have to face them alone."

Keiko nodded. Sisko took another breath, centering himself. Then he spoke:

"I'm going away for a week with my son. When I get back, I'll see what I can do about reassigning you to Deep Space Nine."

"Ah?" Keiko asked, surprised. Sisko leaned forward a bit, a smile on his lips.

"As it turns out, I feel the tactical acumen of the station has been slipping a bit. And the Cardassians might have some things to teach us-I can't think of anyone better for the job, and who could work with the Chief. He could certainly use your expertise, and I think you'd get along fine. He's seen war himself. He'd understand," Sisko explained. "Working here for a while would help raise your profile, and get you even better assignments down the line. Assignments to help protect the Federation."

"I… I don't know what to say," Keiko said. Her eyes turned down to her squadron mates. Zira had slipped an ice cube down Hajar's uniform, and the human woman had retaliated by producing a recording of the Orion on her PADD: One the green woman was desperately trying to get back from the taunting Hajar. The rest of the squadron was watching in laughter, or in Suref's case interest. Andross himself laughed and slapped Mychol on the back, trying to get the little Tullian to loosen up. Sisko followed her gaze.

"Unless… You're happier where you are," Sisko said, a slight hopeful smile on his face. Keiko flushed a bit.

"They're… They're my friends," she said. She knit her fingers in front of her, trying to regain her composure. Sisko nodded.

"DAD!"

Sisko turned his head. A young black boy in his early teens was grinning as he walked in, wearing a hopelessly ugly jumpsuit under a long jacket-probably one of his father's. Keiko managed not to wince-Fashion sense in the 24th century was really terrible. She'd heard it was because aliens had different aesthetics than them and adopting those aesthetics had become popular, but she prayed it was only a fad that soon ended.

Jake's eyes widened as he took in Keiko.

"Oh! Miss Matsunaga!" Jake said, coughing a bit in nervousness. "It's um, it's good to see you!"

"Hey Jake," Keiko said with a wide, genuine smile. She stood up and closed the distance to hug the tall boy. "It's been forever! Look how big you've gotten!"

"Ah, y-yeah," Jake managed, his voice breaking slightly. He awkwardly hugged her back. "I-I'm gonna hit two meters soon."

"Good for you!" Keiko said happily, squeezing the boy's shoulder. He may not have been the little, fun loving boy who had visited his daddy at work anymore, but he was still very sweet. She leaned up a bit to kiss his cheek, making him blush hard. "How's everything been?"

"It's been great," Jake admitted, suddenly standing up straight and trying to make his voice sound deeper. "Um… W-We're going on a field trip to the Gamma Quadrant… F-For a science project," he admitted. Keiko grinned.

"That so? What about?" She asked.

"Uh, planetary survey," Jake managed. "I-I thought of it myself!" Ben stepped in, wrapping an arm around his son's shoulders. He grinned at Keiko, and patted Jake's shoulder.

"It's going to be fun," he said. "All packed up?"

"Yeah, just waiting for you, Dad," Jake admitted. "Um, I'll see you at the runabout then?"

"Definitely," Sisko said warmly, with a hint of a grin on his face. Jake nodded.

"R-Right… Um… Nice to see you again, Keiko," Jake managed. "You-You look great! I didn't tell you before, but you look really great!"

"Thanks Jake, you're becoming very handsome yourself," Keiko replied with a smile. Jake nodded, and turned away to begin awkwardly heading way towards the exit. Sisko and Keiko watched him go, and Keiko waved back as the young teenager threw an awkward wave back.

"He didn't react like that to the dabo girl he dated," Sisko observed wryly. Keiko smirked, and posed a bit.

"Well, I did work as a _gravure_ girl to pay for college," she said with a smile and wink. Sisko laughed.

"Just don't let Jake see any of that, or I'll never get him out of his room again," he warned. Keiko chuckled.

"I'll keep it in mind," she said. She turned to Sisko and smiled, giving him another hug. "Thanks, Ben."

"You're welcome," he said. "Now go on. Your friends are waiting."

Keiko nodded back. The commander turned and headed out through the exit. Keiko watched him go for a time, lost in thought.

* * *

_More to come!_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

**_OTV-561 Aurora, CIS Lunar Space_**

**_2053_**

* * *

Work was the only thing that made sense. And work was all she could do. As it turned out, there was plenty of work to do on the Aurora, a lot of rerouting and fiddling with the systems. Work that was vital.

She was working on one of the touchscreens. Rerouting the controls from the cockpit was the work of an hour or two. Navigation was trickier but all that was needed was the use of the telescopes. She was all too happy to turn them away from Earth and focus on the stars and the moon. To save power, she pulled out a manual and did the math by hand. It had been a very long time since she'd done this, but she found a tranquility in it. A tranquility she desperately needed.

She finished the last of her calculations, and a small smile came onto her face. It was tired and brittle, but genuine. She looked around: She didn't see Dwayne anywhere. She took a deep breath, and took off from the power distribution module. She went through the tunnels of the large ship.

The _Aurora_ was one of many cyclers built by SpaceX in the 2030s, designed to support the moon, Mars and asteroid colonies. They weren't exactly ships: Each was composed of dozens of interchangeable modules. Cockpits, power distribution, habitat, science labs, cargo pods, engine/reactor modules and so on were put together like LEGOs to form large constructs. In the _Aurora's_ case, most of her mass was composed of cargo and storage modules for this trip.

Keiko paused at the entrance to one of the cargo pods, her fingers gripping onto the tunnel edges. She saw Dwayne floating amidst several packages and containers of supplies. He was staring at something in his palm. Something glowing.

"Dwayne?" Keiko asked softly. Dwayne didn't respond. Keiko pushed herself into the module, floating up behind the man. She reached out a hand to stop herself, and peeked up over Dwayne's shoulder.

A small holoprojector was running in his hand: Of a bearded man with a broad smile at the camera, helping a small girl fingerpaint. The little girl reached up and pressed her fingers against the man's face, leaving lines of green and red. The bearded man laughed, and affectionately pressed his fingers against her nose, leaving purple.

"James and Maggie," Dwayne said tonelessly. He sighed softly through his nostrils. "We were going to meet in London when I got back. Go see the Harry Potter museum, at long last. I'd missed so many family vacations before because of work. I promised… I promised a thousand times I would make it this time. For both of them."

Keiko reached out to squeeze his hand. "They… They might still be alive-"

"I saw London, Keiko," Dwayne said, his voice wavering. "I saw Boston… I saw… Everywhere." He bowed his head, his tears pooling up on his eyelashes in zero gravity. "Everything's ashes, now, Keiko. It's all gone…"

Keiko hugged him tightly, her own tears stuck on her eyelashes. Dwayne managed to return the hug, but he felt so… Lifeless.

"... Did anywhere…?" Keiko tried. Dwayne shook his head, a stiff motion.

"No," he said. Keiko nodded slowly.

"I… see," she murmured. They were silent for a long time. Keiko didn't even know where to begin. She didn't think Dwayne would be very interested but still…

"I um… I have news," Keiko managed. "I checked our course. That boost Renji," she paused, but managed to continue, "that Renji gave us got us out of the range of any ECON weapons systems. Looks like any remaining ECON orbital fighters are too busy to bother with us."

"I see," Dwayne managed. Keiko bit her lower lip.

"Bad news… We're going too fast to get into a lunar orbit," Keiko said. Dwayne stared into the distance.

"So… Solar orbit until we run out of air, food and water?" He asked. Keiko shook her head.

"No," she said. "We're… We're lucky. With a few thruster burns, we can get into Mars orbit."

"How long?" Dwayne asked.

"That's… The bad news," Keiko admitted. "458 days. At best. We don't have the supplies for that."

Dwayne's eyes began to focus again. He nodded with a smile.

"No, but we don't need them," he said. "Have you programmed the course corrections into the computer?"

"They won't be as precise as Renji could, but yeah," Keiko admitted. "You'd just have to initiate the program-What do you mean, we won't need them?"

Dwayne turned and pushed himself into the cargo. He got near a very large, coffin-shaped package attached to the ceiling. He undid the wrappings, glass and advanced plastic being revealed. Keiko's eyes widened.

"A cryopod!" She gasped. "We're carrying them?"

"Yes," Dwayne said, pausing a bit. "There's one in here, and one in the other cargo pod." He turned to Keiko, tossing the wrappings aside. He managed a smile. "This one is for emergency use only so it's all hooked into the power system. I could start it up right now, actually."

"Right now? I-" Keiko protested, but Dwayne shook his head.

"The more we breath, the more we use up our supplies. We don't have time to argue!"

"Yeah but, how will you get set up without help?" Keiko asked. Dwayne snorted, shaking his head.

"Look: This is my speciality. I know what I'm talking about. I can get you set up in here, but we don't have time. All right?"

Keiko took a deep breath. "But you need me to-"

"Look! Keiko, we don't have time to have a debate. I can get you into cryosleep and I can get myself into cryosleep. You have the entire thing set up, I just have to start the sequence. So why are we arguing?"

"I…" Keiko began. "I just think maybe we can work this out! Consider more options!" She turned away to try and find a tablet. "Maybe calculate, at least, how this all works-"

She was stuck from behind, and slammed against the cushioned packages. Her vision went hazy as she felt dizzy. She felt Dwayne take hold of her and pull her over into the pod. He shoved her in. She felt restraints go over her wrists, ankles and waist. She found her senses in time to struggle, managing to glare at Dwayne.

"Dwayne, what the fuck-?!"

"I'm sorry," he said. He stuck tubes into her nose, and sensors onto her wrists even as she struggled. "I'm sorry I lied. There isn't another tube, just this one. And even if there was, I couldn't get into it without help."

"Dwayne! Dwayne, you are not killing yourself for me! DAMNIT DWAYNE DO NOT DO THIS YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER!" Keiko screamed. Dwayne sighed, and hit a button on the side of the pod. Sedatives filled her system, and she went limp. Her feelings became a confused jumbled mess, a dull haze. She glared up at Dwayne, even as he put a breathing mask over her lips.

"My life's all gone, Keiko," he said sadly. "My family's all gone. I was going to die anyway, to be with them." He looked intently at her, as her vision swam. "You? You have a future… Make it a better one than what we made."

He shut the pod tight, and everything became icy cold. She breathing slowed, her struggled faded. She closed her eyes and everything went dark.

There was nothing… But the cold.

* * *

_Everything had been slowed, slowed to nothing. To be so still, to be so slow and alone… Death was supposed to be a release but no, she was still alive. Death wasn't what she feared. It was being trapped, slowed to nothing and forced to be nothing._

_It was all so cold, a big, cold nothing of experience she was aware of but not fully aware of. Nothing made sense. Nothing could be quantified. All there was… Was the cold._

_And then it was shattered._

Blood pumping through her veins. Fabrics on her skin. Air in her lungs. Light in her eyes. She began to scream as her senses were overwhelmed, thrashing and kicking furiously as the agony burned through her brain. She felt people grab her, and she struggled harder. Everything was a bright blur as her eyes slowly readjusted to being used.

Then a hiss, and a feeling of chemical drowsiness overtook her. She drifted off, despite fighting it furiously.

She dreamed. Dreamed of the icy cold of space, her tomb lost forever among the stars. She dreamed of family, frozen and silent and staring at her. She dreamed of Dwayne and Renji.

Finally… She woke up.

Keiko slowly opened her eyes, shivering. The lights were dimmer this time, and her eyes had time to adjust. A dull blue and gray ceiling greeted her, light panels embedded in it producing a soft, warm glow.

Keiko's hands slowly slid out from her body, feeling things as she looked around. She was in a bed-Comfortable but a bit cold. She was wearing a blue hospital gown and nothing underneath. The room itself was plain and sterile save for a few paintings on the walls. There were boxy cabinets on either side of her, with several panels on the bed itself with various things being displayed. A double door was the entrance to the room. She turned her head to look behind her.

Beyond huge windows, she could see a vast expanse of gray regolith, underneath a black starry sky. Keiko awkwardly turned, getting onto all fours, and pressed her hands against the glass.

_The moon… I'm on the moon…?_

Something hissed behind her, and she turned quick, clutching her blankets to her. A thin Filipino woman with her dark hair up in a poofy bouffant was standing in the doors with a smile. She was wearing a strange blue and black jumpsuit with a blue overjacket, and carrying a tray of what looked like food.

"Good morning," the woman stated cheerfully. "How are you feeling?" She walked right up to Keiko, and set the tray across the bed. Small metallic supports popped up to take hold of the tray, making Keiko edge back even further. "You must be hungry. I brought you breakfast."

"Wh-What?" Keiko managed. The woman kept smiling, locking her arms behind her back.

"I am sure you have many questions," she said slowly and calmly. "But you really should eat first. I'm Doctor Melanie Dimaano, by the way. And your name is?"

"M-My name?" Keiko stuttered. Doctor Dimaano kept smiling.

"Yes! Your name?"

"Matsunaga Keiko," she replied. "Doctor Matsunaga Keiko."

"Oh!" Dimaano nodded. "You're a doctor? Interesting! Of what?"

"Engineering," Keiko responded. She hesitantly sniffed the food. She could feel the heat coming off of it, which immediately relaxed her. She took hold of a spoon and scooped up some of the porridge looking stuff. She brought it up for a taste. It wasn't terrible, but it was very bland. That said, it was warm so Keiko could forgive it. She dug in, suddenly feeling famished. The doctor stayed at her side, looking at a tablet of some kind.

"Mmph… What's that?" Keiko asked. Dimaano looked at her, as though remembering Keiko was in the room. She smiled.

"Oh. This is just a PADD. It's a small computer we use to document things," she said. She turned the PADD to face Keiko. "See? It's just a-"

"A touchscreen interface, yes," Keiko said with a nod. Dimaano raised her eyebrows.

"Oh! You had those in your time then? That's good. It won't be so confusing for you," she said, reaching out to pat Keiko's palm. Keiko narrowed her eyes, not liking the woman's tone.

"What do you mean 'my time?' How long have I been in cryosleep?" Keiko demanded.

The doctor hummed. "This is usually the hardest part for anyone in your… Situation," Dimaano stated. "Maybe you should finish your food first before you hear it-"

Keiko glared at her. "Where am I, and what year is it?" She demanded. The doctor sighed.

"Very well. You're on Luna, Earth's moon. This is Joseph Kerwin Memorial Hospital. It is Stardate 44002.3. The Earth year 2366." She stared intently at Keiko. "You've been in cryosleep for over three hundred years."

Keiko was silent for a while. She stared at her porridge. The doctor tensed a bit, concerned. Finally, the woman sighed softly.

"Three hundred thirteen years," she murmured. The doctor nodded.

"Yes. I'm very sorry. I'm sure this must be a great shock to you."

"Was… There anyone else?" Keiko asked. Dimaano shook her head.

"No, I'm afraid not," she said.

"I see," Keiko murmured, looking down at her hands. Dimaano smiled, and rested a hand on Keiko's shoulder.

"Now. A lot has changed since you went under. It's going to be a big adjustment. But I'm sure you'll make it soon enough."

"Did… Did we at least win?" Keiko asked. Dimaano blinked.

"Who? Win what?" She asked. Keiko looked intently at Dimaano.

"The war against ECON," she specified. Dimaano hummed, thinking. Then she smiled.

"Oh! World War III?" She answered, and Keiko immediately tensed. "I can't say there were any winners in it. After all, both sides destroyed one another. The whole thing was ridiculous." She reached out and patted Keiko's palm. Keiko's hands curled into tight, angry fists.

"I'm sure it must have seemed important at the time, whatever you were fighting over," she said with that damned smile, "but I'm sure in time, you'll realize it was ultimately pointless and could have easily been resolved if you'd cared more about peace-"

Which is when Keiko slugged her.

* * *

**More to come.**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

**_Joseph Kerwin Memorial Hospital, New Berlin, Luna, Sector 001_**

**_2366_**

* * *

The next few days, Dimaano didn't show up. Keiko couldn't help a certain satisfaction about that. It left her with a lot of nurses and interns who entered her room to give her food, check her vitals, occasionally talk a bit but most importantly? Be bullied into bringing her things.

Like a computer or two and a few PADDs, all of which she immediately put to use accessing the hospital network and learning about this new time she was in.

Faster than light drive. Aliens. Interstellar wars. Exploration. So much to absorb, but the more she learned, the more Keiko wanted to learn more. Her mind had been frozen for three centuries, after all: She needed to get it going again.

At last, around Friday, the doors slid open and Doctor Dimaano appeared with her same smile. She reached up to touch her nose when Keiko glared at her.

"Miss Matsunaga, I hope you don't mind if we go through a few things with a colleague of mine?" She asked. Keiko's glare didn't cease.

"Why don't you apologize first, and I'll think about it?" She retorted. Dimaano sighed heavily, like she was dealing with a child. It made Keiko's hackles rise.

"I am sorry. I should have been aware of how… Sensitive certain topics can be," the doctor said in a very formal, plastic voice. "It may not have been the… Best approach."

"I'm so glad you figured that out," Keiko replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Dimaano nodded.

"Well. Shall we begin?" Dimaano asked. Keiko returned to her PADDs. "Miss Matsunaga?"

"I didn't say yes, and it's Doctor Matsunaga," Keiko shot back. Dimaano sighed again.

"Well! I thought you might be excited to meet your first alien," she said. She managed to make her smile wider. "Wouldn't that be interesting?"

Keiko shrugged. "You make it sound like it wouldn't be."

A frustrated growl rumbled from outside the door. Dimaano and Keiko both jumped. A large man, a head or two taller than Dimaano, entered the room. His forehead was large and covered in ridges, like the crest of a triceratops. His hair was long and bristly, trapped in a tight ponytail. His fingernails were pointed, as were his teeth. He wore a long, white coat with a number of red symbols on it, over a jet black tunic of some kind.

"Doctor, if you're done wasting time, perhaps I can get about the business of speaking with the patient?" The large man growled, making Dimaano flinch. Keiko decided she immediately liked the man, especially with how fake Dimaano's smile was back at him.

"Ah, Keiko, this is Doctor Stord. He is a-"

"Klingon," Keiko immediately identified. "Member of some kind of exchange program, right?"

Stord hummed with a nod. "Yes," he replied. "I see you have been catching up."

"Beats sitting around doing nothing all day," Keiko replied. The Klingon nodded, and Keiko studied him. "You know, it's hard to think of you as an alien. I mean, a lot of our popular culture imagined aliens would be humanoid, but that was just because special effects sucked back then. The odds of aliens actually looking anything like us was very low."

"Hm. We thought much the same way, for a time," Stord replied. He stepped into the room, past the annoyed Dimaano. He took another few slow steps up to Keiko's bedside, a PADD held out in his hands. "In our case, we were invaded and conquered by an alien race we later drove off. It left a lasting impression on us."

"Yeah, I read that too," Keiko said with a nod. Stord hummed, making a note.

"Indeed? Well. Perhaps we can talk more about Klingon history and culture at another time," he stated. "For the moment, Doctor Dimaano would like you to answer a few questions."

"Ah, yes, I would," Dimaano stated, moving to the other side of Keiko's bed but keeping her distance. "For instance: What were you doing onboard that ship?"

Keiko took a deep breath. "I was on the Orbital Defense System Project team for the Allies. We built the satellites that were…" She trailed off, but managed to continue. "That were supposed to prevent a nuclear exchange if ECON launched an attack."

"I see," Stord rumbled, even as Dimaano winced. "You were found far from the satellites."

"We were headed to check on deployment of similar satellites to protect the Moon colonies," Keiko explained, and the Klingon nodded in understanding. "While we were in transit, the ECON nations launched an attack… We just saw the ICBMs launching."

"According to my research into World War III," Stord began, flipping through his PADD, "Colonel Green had decided to launch an all out attack after turning a few key personnel throughout the Allied command and control structure. His agents launched a few parasitic satellites with what you would call 'stealth' technology to disable your defense network." Stord eyed her carefully.

Keiko managed a nod. "Yeah… We figured that out pretty soon after the launch started. We tried to disable the satellite that was jacked, and we did but…" She sighed. "After that, something hit us and we couldn't stay in contact any longer."

"The logs recovered from the satellites indicate that someone tried to get them back under Allied control for over twenty minutes," Stord stated. "While under fire. Impressive."

Keiko shook her head. "I wasn't good enough," she stated firmly. "That's… All it was. In the end, Colonel Green won." Her eyes narrowed. "And in the end, what did he win? An irradiated hell with constant death and suffering."

She fixed Dimaano with an angry glare. The doctor shrank back a bit. Keiko glared at the far wall, her fingers gripping one of her PADDs tightly. Her knuckles were pale from the strain.

"I hope they savored it," she growled.

Stord nodded in understanding. "The Eastern Coalition was monstrous. Even by Klingon standards," he admitted. "Green acted as a coward. His only satisfaction was a burning world, brought about by his own hands. There is nothing honorable about that." He reached out and grasped Keiko's shoulder, making her look up at him.

"However: To fight on as you did marks you as someone of great courage and determination. To not give up after all that, and to try and survive takes strength. No matter how difficult it may seem now, I assure you: _You _have the strength needed to live in this time. You will only require guidance. And many will be willing to guide one as worthy as you."

What's with this guy? He's talking like someone out of my Japanese animes, her mind pointed out. Yet it didn't stop her genuine smile.

"Thank you," Keiko replied. She glanced over at Dimaano, and then back at Stord. "So… Um, what else can I help you with?"

Stord asked more questions, mainly related to Keiko's expertise. He admitted that several other historians were already very interested in talking to her, but for the moment they were held at bay due to Keiko needing time to recover. Dimaano was mostly just annoyed the entire session. Which suited Keiko fine. She talked about some of her medical issues as well, and Stord patiently went through the tests with her.

Frankly, she was astonished at just how much information the little sensors in the bed were getting out of her. It was like they'd shoved an MRI, X-Ray, Thermal and dozens of other scanners into tiny panels no thicker than a few pieces of paper. Stord himself was not an engineer but he was able to answer a number of her questions about the operation of the devices.

"So, it's not just increased resolution and processing power, you're also using some kind of exotic particle field to measure mass displacement?" She asked. Stord nodded.

"Yes. Subspace interface technology has multiple uses. I believe that at one point, you called the missing mass of the universe and the energy that kept it expanding 'dark matter'?"

"Yeah," Keiko nodded. "It was really kind of a stand in for something we didn't understand."

"Hrm. Well, I am not a physicist but I do believe you were detecting the first signs of subspace," Stord stated. "It is a multilayered dimensional domain that intrudes on our own level of reality."

"So because the laws of physics are different through subspace technologies, you can bend them a bit," Keiko said. She grinned brightly. "That's… That's actually amazing!"

"I suppose it is," Stord said with a nod. His phone beeped, and he checked it. Sure, they called it a "communicator" but it was really just a phone to her. Stord grimaced at whatever he saw on the screen of his device. "I am needed elsewhere," he said. He looked at Keiko. "If you require anything else, you may ask Doctor Dimaano."

"Will I see you again?" Keiko asked, a bit shyly. Stord hummed.

"It is usually not a good thing to want to see a doctor more than necessary. But I would be happy to speak to you and help with your recovery more," he said. Keiko grinned.

"That's all I ask!"

The Klingon turned and headed out. Dimaano sighed, and finished a few notes on her PADD. Keiko looked over at the doctor, raising her eyebrows.

"You seem happy to see him go," Keiko observed. Dimaano shook her head rapidly.

"Not at all! It's an honor to have Doctor Stord as a resident doctor. His expertise is well established," she said. "I suppose he can just be hard to work with sometimes."

"I didn't have any trouble," Keiko retorted. Dimaano gave her a condescending expression.

"Yes. You're a weapons designer, and he's a warrior. There's a natural synergy there."

"I thought he was a doctor," Keiko replied. Dimaano huffed.

"In their hearts, all Klingons are warriors. Even as allies, they keep trying to find excuses to fight. To war." She looked intently at Keiko. "We're in a time where we're supposed to be… Better than that. I guess his race just has a lot more growing up to do."

Before, Keiko would have just gotten angry at that. Even now, she was angry. But rather than lash out physically, she slowly nodded.

"Oh, I see," Keiko replied. "I mean, it's not like the Federation has had to fight to defend itself. Against, let's see," she began, checking a PADD, "the Romulans, the Klingons, the Tholians, the Kzinti, the Klingons again, the Gorn, the Klingons yet again, the Romulans again, the Talarians, the Tzenkethi, the Cardassians and these new guys… The Borg?"

"Wha-" Dimaano snatched the PADD out of Keiko's hands, and looked through it. She stared at Keiko in shock. "How did you get access to these files?! These are restricted!"

"People apparently still use their birthdays for their passwords, even in the 24th century," Keiko replied breezily. "I'm just saying, for a 'peaceful, enlightened' civilization you've had a lot of wars."

"Minor skirmishes ever since the Khitomer Accords, at best," Dimaano sniffed. She sighed. "I think you've been doing too much reading. It's time to get out and about: It'll do you good!"

Dimaano went over and pulled out a wheelchair… Minus the wheels. But thanks to the anti-gravity pads on it, it just floated easily. She pushed it back to the bed with that plastic smile again.

"Come on: It's been a while since you saw the sun anyway!"

Keiko grumbled a bit. She knew the doctor was just trying to get her way and make Keiko do something to assuage her own ego… But she had to admit, she would like to get out. So she stood up, brushing off Dimaano's attempts to help, and sat down in the chair with the imperiousness of a queen. She gestured to the door.

"By all means," she stated. Dimaano pushed her along, and Keiko leaned back, her blanket tucked tightly around her. It was still too damn cold.

* * *

The Joseph Kerwin hospital was on the edge of the huge, transparent aluminum dome that protected the New Berlin colony. When Keiko had been to the colony last, it had been a few dozen habitat modules and 3D printed pressurized caves: Now it was a full blown city, with skyscrapers reaching for the dark night sky and aircars going to and fro. The technology was impressive, but the most gratifying sight was the Earth high above. The blue dot, thriving and living again. Even after World War 3 and the horrors that followed, it had recovered. She found herself staring intently at it, a smile on her face.

_Dwayne… Renji… I'm so sorry you couldn't see this._

The garden around the hospital was full of other patients, and had several screens displaying news from around the Federation as well as entertainment. She caught sight of several different species she remembered reading about: Andorians, Bajorans, Bolians, Tellarites, Trill, Nasat, Triexian, and many others she hadn't read about. Despite Dimaano's poor first impression, she was already liking the Federation. What she'd seen of it, anyway.

It was at this point though that every screen changed to a single news report: Footage from Wolf 359. Keiko looked at the reports with a frown, as numerous other eyes all turned to watch too. Dimaano shook her head.

"Oh, that. The new guys, as you called them," Dimaano explained with a huff. "The Borg. They attacked one colony out on the rim and now are trying to come here with one ship! Can you imagine something so ridiculous?"

The grave looks on the reporter's faces and those of the other people who showed up didn't seem to reflect Dimaano's apathy. Keiko shook her head.

"You've assembled 40 starships to fight this one ship. It doesn't look ridiculous to me," she said. Dimaano shook her head back, and patted Keiko's shoulder. This made Keiko glare at her.

"Please. I'm a Starfleet officer, and let me tell you: This is just an overreaction and it's all going to blow over soon. The Federation is enlightened. We just have to teach the Borg what they're missing, and they'll learn soon enough."

It was at this point the Borg cube entered visual range. Keiko studied it intently, as she did the designs of the Federation starships she could see. Most of the Federation ships seemed built for speed as a priority, and long range-Not necessary bad things, but maybe not that tough. Then again, the Borg ship was a gigantic cube, like a brick the size of a mountain-It was hard not to look frail against that.

Out of forty ships… Four of them immediately launched forward in a first wave, while the other vessels hung back and began to encircle the cube. So far, not terrible…

"A vanguard to slow the cube down while the other ships surround it? Not bad," she allowed. "But why aren't they firing all weapons? Why aren't they concentrating their fire on a few single points? Why aren't they coordinating?"

"It'll be fine, Keiko, now calm down," Dimaano tried… Just as the first ship was caught by a Borg tractor beam and torn apart. Her jaw dropped, and a horrified silence began to grow as more and more ships were similarly destroyed.

The Federation ships began to attack in larger groups, raining fire down on the cube from all sides. More smaller groups broke off to engage the cube, as the rest of the fleet bombarded it. The footage was getting confused, as the feed had to keep switching from ship to ship as the cube pressed on. More ships were destroyed. More formations shattered. A small scout vessel, an Oberth if Keiko recalled correctly, tried to ram the cube but was caught and tossed aside like a toy.

The fleet had been reduced in number by half. Fires and impact damage were visible on the cube but the giant kept pushing on even as more fire struck it from all sides. The Federation ships drew back, trying to regroup around a big ship: A Galaxy-class, she believed.

It put up a valiant fight: All phasers and torpedoes firing, maneuvering hard with its companions as it kept trying to find anywhere vulnerable. Yet it wasn't able to keep its distance. The Borg rammed through another vessel, and another, pushing to get to the flagship.

The feed switched to a civilian vessel. The reporter on the scene looked terrified, sweat dripping down his brow as the crew rushed to and fro in the background.

_"The captain is ordering us to retreat. I don't have access to external comms-Something's jamming us! I-I can see the admiral's flagship! The cube has it! They're tearing it apart! It's coming apart! I can't believe it!"_

The ship began to shake violently around the reporter. He held on for dear life.

_"The cube's here! It's caught us! We can't-!"_

The image jerked, janked and dissolved into static before a deep, grating electronic hum filled the air. Keiko gripped the armrests of her wheelchair tightly, as a pale face covered in cybernetics appeared. The face was hard as granite, yet emotionless. Then, it spoke.

_**"I AM LOCUTUS OF BORG. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. YOUR CULTURE WILL ADAPT TO SERVICE US-"  
**_

The screen went black. Keiko looked at Dimaano. The Filipino woman was pale, her mouth trying to work but no sound came.

"What was that you said about Federation enlightenment? I think the Borg learned something else," she commented, despite the fear she felt.

* * *

**More to come.**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

**_Federation Starbase Deep Space Nine, Bajoran Sector_**

**_2370_**

Birds chirped overhead as the summer sun shone down on the beautiful glen. Ancient ruins, elegant Roman pillars, grew out of the brush like marble tree trunks. The scent of pine and cedar filled the air with every gentle brush of wind. Keiko kept her eyes closed, enjoying the smells and the feel of the warm sun on her skin.

A gunshot broke the tranquility, and numerous birds screeched and took to the sky. Keiko's eyes snapped open, and she looked over in slight annoyance at her companion. He was a tall, handsome man with neatly coiffed brown hair, deep blue eyes, and a pointed chin. He was dressed in an elaborate, aristocratic blue uniform, gold buttons shining in the sunlight. He lowered his hunting rifle, a slight smirk on his face.

"That's not helping," Keiko said. Trieze Kushrenada shrugged, reaching down to pat a large, panting dog.

"Your silence isn't helping either. So, I chose to break it," he stated. He whistled, and his dog trotted off happily into the underbrush to find the bird Trieze had downed. Keiko watched it run off, her arms still crossed under her chest.

"Hunting was banned on Earth for a few years," she said. Trieze hummed thoughtfully, laying his rifle on a small table nearby. A woman, brown haired, wearing glasses and in a dark red uniform, dutifully began to clean it.

"A strange law. I take it the ban didn't last very long?" Trieze asked. Keiko shook her head, snorting.

"No. It was ridiculous. So ridiculous human nature couldn't cope. So they abolished it."

"Mm. There's some hope then," Trieze admitted. "To hunt for meat, to seek sustenance and struggle for it: That's human. Part of our genes since we were born."

His dog reappeared, a pheasant held between his gleaming teeth. The dog bounded up to Trieze, and he knelt down to bring the dog closer. He rubbed the dog's head, and the animal released its prize into his other hand. He took hold of the pheasant and took it up, putting it on the table. With practiced ease, the lady took the bird, and exchanged it for Trieze's loaded rifle.

"That is the true order of things," Trieze said, stepping back up to look through the iron sights of the rifle. Keiko snorted.

"And for men to fight one another?"

"Of course," Trieze said, He sighed. "It can be beautiful, to fight. For a glorious cause, for freedom and salvation. For two people to struggle and push themselves to the limits, showing who they truly are. For peace."

"You thought it was beautiful, but you hated what happened afterwards. You hated the death, the waste, the destruction," Keiko argued back. Trieze nodded.

"Yes. As do you." He lowered the gun and looked back at Keiko intently.

"So why do you study the ways of war, Keiko Matsunaga? Why do you try to improve them?"

Keiko looked down at her hands, and then out at the trees. "Because without strength, your ideals are useless. Ideals must be backed by force of will and steel, and you must allow yourself to defend them. You can't be good unless you have the strength for it." She looked over at Treize's gun. "With powder and steel," she said, nodding to the rifle. "Or with fusion and light. You can only be as good as far as you can back it up."

"Yet," Trieze spoke again, "strength can lead to conquest. To pointless wars, to demonstrate their strength. The character matters, just as much as the strength."

Keiko snorted. "Not likely with this bunch-"

"And yet, is this not the fear they feel?" Trieze asked, looking over at Keiko. "They have faced all consuming military force, conquerors and monsters of unfathomable strength. They are reminded of the past. A past so terrible they have done everything they could to erase it and distance themselves from it."

"The Borg are _worse _than anything Colonel Green could conjure up," Keiko argued back, eyes narrowed. "And who knows what else could be out there? Things even more terrible than we can imagine!"

"It is for this they cling to this mindset. The fear of becoming these monsters," Trieze explained. "Justified with rhetoric and yet behind it all is fear."

"So what? What's the alternative, go extinct?" Keiko demanded. Trieze shook his head.

"You don't see the battle for what it is," he said. "And make no mistake: It _is _a battle." He aimed his rifle again, having caught a flash of movement in the brush. "A battle for hearts and souls. A battle to be strong… But to not let that strength control you. Whether by pacifism or militarism, arrogance will lead to the same place: Self destruction."

"I don't want to turn Starfleet into a bunch of jackbooted thugs!" Keiko raged. "Or aristocrats who see war as a meaningless game!" She stood up and tossed aside the chair. She glared death at Trieze. "But this isn't working either!"

"No," Trieze said, looking intently at her, utterly unperturbed by her anger. "But you're not working, either. You're not fighting the battle the right way, Keiko. You're fighting your anger while you fight the bigger battle. A war on two fronts, and you're not fighting either properly."

Keiko stopped, and sighed. She sat back down, feeling limp.

"So… You think I should take the job on Deep Space Nine," she said wearily. Trieze shrugged, lowering his rifle.

"It doesn't matter what_ I_ think. What matters is what you think," he pointed out. "You're avoiding the battle there, too."

Keiko was silent, and just watched Trieze as he continued to try and pick out a target in the trees ahead. She rubbed her hands together, feeling cold. Trieze shook his head, and let out a heavy sigh.

"The battle is _always _there, Keiko. We can deny it and ignore it, but it is always going to be there. Waiting."

The holosuite doors opened behind her before she could respond. She didn't react, just listening to the footfalls on the grass. The doors shut slowly.

"Keiko?"

She looked over her shoulder. It was Andross: Looking strange in his standard Starfleet uniform, out of his flight suit. He looked around, and gave Keiko an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry to interrupt-"

"No! No, it's all right," Keiko replied. She looked back at the woods. "Come in."

Andross walked up, his keen eyes analyzing everything he saw.

"What game is this?" He asked.

"_Mobile Suit Gundam Wing_," Keiko replied automatically. Andross raised an eyebrow, looking Trieze up and down. He glanced over at Keiko.

"... Are you sure?" He asked. Trieze merely smiled politely and nodded.

"Ah, hello-Lieutenant Gottschalk, I believe?" He asked. Andross blinked.

"Yes, that's me," he replied. Trieze nodded, and put his feet together. He stood at attention, and saluted sharply.

"I've heard a great deal about you," Trieze said. "I'm glad Keiko has found a-"

Keiko cleared her throat, loudly. Trieze's smile grew a bit wider.

"-pilot and friend as good as you," he said. Andross nodded, and returned the salute just as sharply.

"Thank you?" He asked, still a bit bemused. Trieze bowed, and then walked back to the table to discuss things with the lady in the glasses. Andross watched them go, and looked over at Keiko with a smile.

"I'm impressed. You programmed the characters so well. I… I forgot he wasn't real."

Keiko nodded. "Back in the day we had trouble with realistic simulations. We got so much right but there was always something just a little off in people. Facial muscles and the eyes." She looked up at the sky with a soft sigh. "Maybe… It's a matter of art, and not science."

"Maybe," Andross said with a nod. "Computer, chair." Another chair appeared, and Andross took hold of it to sit down. They enjoyed the soft sound of bird song. Andross knit his fingers in front of him, thoughtful.

"I heard a rumor from Zira," he said. "About Commander Sisko offering you a job here."

"It's hardly a rumor when she eavesdropped, is it?" Keiko snorted. "You know, I had a cat back on Earth. She didn't gossip."

"Must have been nice," Andross observed. Keiko snorted.

"Yeah… So?"

"So?" Andross echoed. Keiko shook her head.

"It's a good position. I've worked with Ben-Commander Sisko before," she said. "At Utopia Planitia Yards, after Wolf 359. His reputation might help a lot. Get me where I want to go."

"Where is that?" Andross asked. Keiko shrugged. She glanced over at him with a sigh.

"Helping to protect the Federation," she said. Andross smiled.

"I thought you were doing that now. With us," he said gently. Keiko wanted to smile. She dearly wanted to. It just didn't come.

"It… Isn't enough," she admitted softly. "I feel like I'm not doing enough good. That I'm not fighting hard enough."

"Nobody fights harder than you in this squadron," Andross insisted. "Without you we'd all be dead. A dozen times over."

"I'm fighting for you. But I could be fighting for all of Starfleet," Keiko said. She shook her head. "Having to put up with endless morons who just… Just can't understand! Who could be covered in the blood of billions and still keep prattling on about pacifism!" She slapped her knee, hard, a flash of pain joining the rage inside her. "Colonel Green didn't give a shit about peace, or freedom, or understanding! He wasn't stupid, he wasn't 'unenlightened'! He just wanted power! And more power! Because he wanted it! And he took it!"

She gripped her knees harder, her fingernails digging into her skin.

"Some people… Some beings just don't care about logic. They don't care about understanding. They just know they can take what they want, and take it. And don't care about everything they destroy-Some _relish _it."

She looked directly at Andross, biting her lower lip. He looked back, silent. She turned her head back to the forest.

"I saw… I saw a _whole world_ die because of evil bastards who wouldn't be appeased. Who couldn't be reasoned with. They just wanted to watch the world burn, and lord over the ashes. That hasn't changed. It never will change." She shut her eyes. She felt Andross take her hand, and squeeze it. She squeezed it back.

"... I can't do that here," she whispered.

"Why does it have to be you? Why do you have to run?" Asked Andross. Keiko shot a deadly look at Andross.

"I'm _not_!" She hissed. "I…" She looked back at the woods, blinking away tears. "I'm not running away," she whispered. "Am I?"

Andross's arms came around her. He pulled her tight into a hug. She let him, not resisting at all. She sighed softly at his warmth, and leaned into it. He was so warm…

A klaxon blared over the loudspeaker. Yellow lights flashed over them. Keiko and Andross stood up, almost stumbling over each other.

_**"Yellow alert, yellow alert, all personnel to duty stations. Yellow alert, yellow alert, all personnel to duty stations,"**_ the computer's stiff voice announced in a dull tone.

"What's going on?" Keiko asked, looking around.

"Let's find out," Andross said, squeezing her hand. She squeezed back, before abruptly pulling her hand away. Andross kept his hand out briefly, and then pulled it back. His face was stony.

"Yeah. Let's go," he said. Keiko nodded, as Andross headed for the holosuite doors. Keiko spared a last glance at Trieze. The aristocrat smiled, and bowed. Keiko returned the bow.

"Computer, end program," she said. The field vanished, replaced by a green, mechanical room. She rushed to the entrance, pausing just long enough to pull out a data chip from the computer interface. She slid it into her pocket, and hurried to catch up.

* * *

It was amazing how fast things can change in life. One day, the Earth was vibrant and living. Then it was a nuclear wasteland. One day, the only thing Keiko had to worry about was the Borg and the Cardassians.

Now, there was something new. The Dominion. One of their ships had come through the wormhole. A "representative" had beamed right through the shields, walked right through a containment field, and delivered news: They had wiped out the New Bajor colony, destroyed dozens of Federation and other Alpha Quadrant vessels, and captured Commander Sisko. They would not tolerate "further" interference, and had furnished a PADD from the New Bajor colony as proof of their actions. Then, the being (a Jem'Hadar he called himself) beamed out, and his ship flew off-Impervious to the tractor beam they'd thrown at it.

The PADD had been analyzed-It was from New Bajor, all right. Down to the serial number.

Commander Shran had gathered Andross, herself, Suref, Pops and Jin in the Operations center of the station. The rest of the senior staff was gathered too, along with Captain Keogh. He'd arrived with his ship, the USS Odyssey, a big Galaxy-class starship. At the moment, they were working on what they knew, and what they were going to do next. Keogh had taken command, the senior most officer in the room. He had a cool, easy confidence about him. Like a grandfather who knew how to work on a car engine and could still shoot a buck between the eyes.

"I've spoken with Starfleet Command," Captain Keogh said, setting down a PADD. On it were extensive notes he'd been reviewing. "They've authorized us to take the USS Odyssey into the Gamma Quadrant, and assess the threat posed by the Dominion."

"What about Commander Sisko? You're not going to just leave him in their custody, are you?" Major Kira, the Bajoran second in command, asked intently. Keogh shook his head.

"I have no intention of leaving any of our people in the hands of the Dominion. Not if I can help it." He looked around. "I'll be taking a section of 477th with us, too, to screen us."

"And us, too," Lieutenant Jadzia Dax insisted. The captain looked around at the senior staff, a frown on his face.

"Are you sure that's wise? With the exception of Major Kira and Mister O'Brien, none of you've had much combat experience."

Andross made to answer, but the doctor of the station, Julian Bashir, interjected.

"We've fought the Maquis!" He insisted. Keogh shook his head, his face a kind but hard smile.

"The Maquis have lightly armed shuttlecraft. I expect the Jem'Hadar to have sharper teeth," he stated. He nodded to Shran. "This is a job best suited for veterans."

"Veterans or not, you're going to need all the help you can get," Dax insisted. Keogh glanced at Shran. The Andorian shook his head.

"Enthusiasm is welcome, but in practical terms," he began. Keiko found herself speaking.

"Uh, sirs. If I may?"

And suddenly the captain and commander's eyes were squarely on her.

"Yes, Warrant Officer…?" Keogh prompted.

"Matsunaga," Shran said. "She's our engineering expert." He nodded to her, and she kept going.

"While the fighters are better armed and faster than the runabouts, the runabouts are tougher and have better sensors," she said. "In addition, Lieutenant Dax's scientific expertise would let us better analyze the Dominion ships. We need every advantage we can get."

Dax smiled at the compliment. Keogh hummed thoughtfully.

"You think it's that dire then, Matsunaga?" Keogh said. Keiko nodded.

"Yes sir. They know how to beam through our shields, move through our forcefields, and throw off our tractor beams," she stated. "For all we know, they've taken apart every ship of ours on that list, and unlocked all our secrets. We cannot afford to take any chances."

Miles O'Brien interjected. "I've been making some custom modifications to the runabouts, sir. Letting them carry a heavier torpedo armament." He glanced at Pops, the old Tellarite looking interested. "I can apply it to the runabout from Outpost 444, too. In just three hours."

Captain Keogh nodded. "All right. That'll give us time to offload non-essential personnel from the Odyssey. Get to work, we leave in three hours. Dismissed!"

The other officers got going. Pops chuckled and shook his broad head.

"Three hours, as he cuts off his own arm," the old Tellarite huffed. He clapped Miles on the shoulder. "Come on! If I don't keep you from disfiguring yourself, your wife will never be able to put up with you again."

"At least there's one person who can put up with me. One more than you," he snorted back, answering the Tellarite's insult properly. Pops laughed and he and the Chief headed off. Shran gathered his pilots together.

"Our fighters are on the way via a transport ship. They'll be here in one hour. Sort out the weapons loads."

"Hope they were properly packed," Jin commented. "Would hate for them to be knocked around like last time."

"I made sure they'd take good care of them," Shran stated. "Andross, I'll need you to coordinate with me and the Odyssey's tac officer: Let's see what would be the best strategy."

"Aye sir," Andross said with a nod. Captain Keogh cleared his throat, and the fighter pilots looked at him. "Chief Warrant Officer Matsunaga, a word?"

"Ah, yes sir," Keiko said, resisting the urge to glance back at her squadronmates. She knew what they would see. She walked up to Keogh, who gestured to allow her to head into an adjacent room. She went first, nodding to him, as the door opened on a small conference room. Keiko walked in, Captain Keogh following. The door shut behind them, and Keiko turned and stood at attention.

"Yes sir?" She asked. Keogh smiled.

"At ease, Matsunaga," he said. "I just wanted to say…"

Keiko's keen mind began working on numerous possibilities. She'd started the moment the door opened. What was he on about? She'd never met or even heard of the man before. Had she hit one of his relatives? Had she-

"Thank you," the captain finally said. Keiko blinked.

"Sir?"

Keogh smiled, like an old man proud of his granddaughter.

"The Tac 3.2 update for the Galaxy-class. I believe you were responsible for that?"

"Uh, I worked on it, yes. I wasn't the only one," Keiko said modestly. "It was based on new data from the Enterprise-D and their encounters with the Borg, the Romulans-"

"And it saved our hides," Keogh stated firmly. He walked over to one of the windows, looking out and up. Keiko followed, a bit awkwardly. She followed his gaze up to the form of the Odyssey, shining above, docked to one of the claw-shaped pylons. Keogh smiled fondly at his ship high above, warmth in his eyes.

"We were assigned to deal with rogue Klingons, those still on the side of the Duras after their civil war. Their Chancellor, Gowron himself, personally assured us they had only a few Birds of Prey and an old battlecruiser or two." Keogh snorted, and Keiko nodded. She grimaced as well: Seemed politicians were just as clueless no matter what species they were.

"And?" Keiko prompted.

"They had a fully operational Vor'cha-class attack cruiser waiting for us," Keogh said. He chuckled, and looked back at Keiko. "Without that upgrade, we'd have been caught entirely unprepared. I have every confidence in my crew, of course. I've tried to make them the best, and I've succeeded. We succeeded. But those notes and instructions and suggested tactical maneuvers? That gave us the edge. So," he nodded with a smile, "thank you."

"You're welcome, um, sir," she replied, feeling a bit awkward. Keogh raised his eyebrows.

"I also heard what you did to Commodore Decker," he said mildly.

"Um," Keiko flushed, looking aside. "You did, huh?"

"Took me a while to put a face to the name," Keogh said. He then grinned. "Glad I did: Funniest damn thing I ever heard."

"Really?" Keiko asked. She smiled, feeling less worried.

"Commodore Decker is an old fool, still coasting on his family name. The only difference between how he was when he was a smarmy twerp at the academy and now is the number of skirts he chases," Keogh snorted. Keiko nodded with a smile, a small laugh coming out of her. He returned the smile.

"So I'm glad you're with us. Competency is something vital, and we need it." He patted her on the shoulder. "I want you to work with my tactical officer. We've only got three hours, so get to work on what we know about the Dominion."

"Yes sir!" Keiko chirped.

* * *

The transport ship arrived: A _London_-class transport, USS _Lagos_. And after some final consultations with the tactical officer aboard the _Odyssey_, Keiko was beamed aboard with the rest of the squadron. The cargo bays of the ship were wide, almost completely empty, with their ships safely secured: A welcome surprise given the last time.

They got to work on prepping their fighters, Andross smoothly taking sliding into the cockpit and running the pre-flight check for their own. Keiko made to get in too, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Zira was there, smiling sunnily up at Andross.

"Just need to borrow Keiko for a moment, be right back," she said. The pretty Orion led Keiko away, near her fighter. "Keiko, can you double check the sensors on my ship? I don't want Hajar to yell at me."

"I guess I can do that," Keiko replied hurriedly. Zira led her up to a console hastily set up alongside the Peregrine. Keiko ran through the checks on the sensors and other systems, just to be thorough, as Zira leaned in close.

"So… About the job Commander Sisko offered," Zira began. Keiko rolled her eyes. Of course.

"I haven't decided yet," she said stiffly. "And your timing sucks."

"We're going into battle, we can't just put it off," Zira pointed out. Keiko sighed, running another diagnostic on the tactical systems.

"Maybe," she admitted. Zira leaned in.

"Keiko, I get that you want to save the Federation. I really do. I admire that about you," she said, her eyes showing nothing but sincerity. "So I understand the conflict."

"And?" Keiko asked, glaring at her. "Why do I have to make the decision right now? Why do I have to do anything? I might decide not to, you know!"

Zira nodded. "I know," she said. "But if it's twisting you up inside with just the option? Maybe you need to pull back and let it go. At least," she held up her hands, "for a little bit. Especially since we are about to enter combat."

Keiko sighed, and slowly nodded. "It's not my first time," she reminded the Orion. Zira nodded.

"I know," she said. "I just don't want to see you die because you were too wrapped up in yourself."

Keiko turned to Zira. The Orion woman looked solemn: An unusual sight. Keiko shook her head.

"I don't know what's going to happen," she said, "but let's try to assume we're going to live through this. All right?"

"I never assume anything," Zira said. "Life can be so short, and I just want you to not have any regrets. They'll haunt you and everyone else after death."

Keiko sighed softly. She did a final check on all systems. "You're good to go," she told Zira. "And… I'll try."

Zira beamed, and hugged her. "Good," she said. She then gave her a quick peck on the lips, making Keiko flush and stutter.

"H-Hey! Don't get so familiar!" She cried, pulling away. Zira laughed.

"Ah, uptight humans! You're always so much fun," she giggled. She headed off, climbing into her fighter behind the annoyed looking Hajar. "Take care out there!" She said with a wave. Keiko returned it, a small smile on her face.

"You too."

It didn't take long after that for their little flotilla to head for the wormhole. Keiko herself had seen footage of it, of course. They all had. To actually go through the swirling, blue and white maelstrom was something else entirely.

"It's incredible," she breathed, looking around the vast swirling energies, to the strange event horizon beyond that seemed to ripple like water. "It's… Nothing like the theories we had."

"Well, it was built by people a lot smarter than us," Andross said. Keiko nodded, gazing in wonder around the strange passage.

All too soon, the trip ended and they exited out on the other side of the galaxy. The mighty _Odyssey _followed after their four fighters, with the runabouts _Mekong, Orinoco_ and _Farbanti _in tow. The group of ships set course for the system Commander Sisko was supposed to have gone to for his son's camping trip, and they jumped to warp.

They reached the system in only around 20 minutes, and cruised at impulse towards the inner worlds. Only one planet was habitable, and the trail left by the runabout _Rio Grande_ led right for it, so they followed the path.

It was at this time their sensors went off, and Keiko checked the readings of the intruders against what they'd gotten off the Jem'hadar ship that had come through the wormhole.

"Confirmed: I read three… No, four Jem'hadar vessels," Keiko reported, the data confirmed along the communications links between all the Federation ships. "Approaching at high impulse speed."

_"Red alert. Shields up. Arm weapons,"_

Keogh ordered.

_"Chevalier Flight, increase speed," _Shran ordered. Andross complied, and soon the four ships were accelerating. The runabouts trailed behind, staying near the _Odyssey_._ "Fan out and stay with your wingmates."_

"Acknowledged," Andross returned.

The Jem'hadar ships screamed into view, moving fast in a tight formation. By her readings, each of the vessels were about four to five times the mass of their Peregrines at least, but had a much higher power output. That said, the readings were getting more difficult to analyze.

"Chevalier 1 to _Orinoco_, my sensors are being jammed," Keiko reported. "What are you seeing?"

_"Looks like active ECM. I'm sort through it and-Power spike! Break off! Break off!"_ Dax shouted. Andross imediately pulled hard to starboard, a barrage of white energy blasts erupting from the Jem'hadar ships. The smallcraft evaded, the Jem'Hadar ships flying like they were one vessel and plowing through their formations. Andross reacted on instinct, flipping around to get behind the ships and chase them. Suref's Peregrine followed, sticking close. The Mekong wasn't able to evade fast enough, so opened up with hers phasers at the Jem'hadar ships while trying to dive below them. The Jem'hadar vessels responded with a withering hail of fire, a few shots of which hit the runabout's engines and sent it spiralling away.

"Mekong! Mekong, _do you read?"_ Shran barked.

_"We read! Engines are offline, we've got a hull breach in the rear compartment!"_ Bashir shouted over the comms.

_"_Farbanti_, assist the _Mekong _and get out of there. We've got this,_" Keogh ordered, and the _Odyssey's _powerful phasers lashed out, her two massive saucer emitters lit up and letting loose two powerful beams. The Jem'hadar shifted in their formation, one vessel breaking and taking the fire. The beams kept punishing the lone attack ship, until they punched through and struck the little ship dead on. It went up into a massive fireball, the debris flying everywhere. Keiko found herself cheering…

Until the other three ships, using the opening presented by their fellow's sacrificed, opened up with a furious storm of beam weapon fire. The blasts shot right to the hull of the _Galaxy_-class starship, pummeling the joint of where the engineering hull met the neck of the ship. They kept this fire concentrated, more shots striking across the neck all the way to the stardrive's impulse drive. A final flurry of shots in the Jem'hadar's pass struck the port nacelles, gouging out craters in the warp field coils.

The lights of the _Odyssey _abruptly dimmed, her port warp nacelle flickering like a burnt out lightbulb. The ship's attitude control began to suffer, as her thrusters fired frantically to right the mighty ship. Keiko's cheer died, her jaw dropping.

"Odyssey! Odyssey,_ this is_ Orinoco! _What happened?_" Dax's voice shouted over the comms.

_"Their weapons went right through our shields! Some kind of polaron beam!"_ Keogh reported, the faint sounds of people shouting and the ship rumbling going on in the background. _"Main power has been taken out, along with our forward torpedo launcher! Power distribution systems are offline, trying to re-route!"_

The Jem'hadar ships swung back around, still with that eerie, incredible precision. Andross accelerated to full impulse, shooting past the _Odyssey_.

"Hang on _Odyssey_!" Andross called. "I've got you…" He locked phasers and pulled the trigger, orange beams lashing out at the Jem'hadar ships and hitting… Nothing. "What?! Keiko!"

_"Engaging,"_ Suref said, but his fighter's phasers also hit nothing. The Jem'hadar returned fire, and the fighters broke out of the path of the beams. Once again, they flew by, still tight in their formation. _"I have missed."_

Keiko's fingers flew over the console. She checked the sensors-No, they were working fine except for…

"It's the active jamming!" Keiko shouted. "They're actively jamming our targeting sensors when we try to lock on!"

_"All ships, close to point blank range and engage the Jem'hadar! Protect the_ Odyssey!" Shran ordered.

"Orinoco _to _Odyssey, _did you try changing shield frequencies?_" Dax asked, her runabout throwing phaser fire at the Jem'hadar fighters from a close orbit around the mighty starship.

_"We went through the entire electromagnetic spectrum! No effect at all!"_ Keogh shouted. _"We are diverting shield power to the weapons!"_

_"We're picking up the_ Rio Grande, _Captain_," Dax continued. "_We're going to rendeavous!"_

_"All right! Get the runabout, get Sisko and then let's get the hell out of here!"_ Keogh ordered. _"Shran, buy us time!"_

_"Understood!"_ Shran responded._ "Split them up, people!"_

Andross, Suref at his side, closed the range with the nearest Jem'hadar ship making another run at the _Odyssey_. The two fighters opened up, their beams finally making contact with the Jem'hadar vessel and lighting up its shields. It turned, staying in formation and firing its beams backwards. Andross pulled up hard, Suref breaking with him to avoid the shots. Shran's fighter, along with Hajar's were attacking from the other side, the same result. It did mean the next pass, only one Jem'hadar fighter was hitting the _Odyssey_-Raking its beams across its engineering section.

The _Odyssey _returned fire with a few weak phaser blasts-Pulsing the beams to try and get them functioning with what they could get out of the shield generators. It wasn't much, but it did force the Jem'hadar to break. One of them streaked for the _Mekong_, the _Farbanti _already orbiting it.

"Suref, I'm going to play bait. Get ready with the micro-photons," Andross ordered.

_"Acknowledged,_" Suref replied.

Andross pursued this one, firing phasers. The beams lashed out and struck the rear of the scarab-shaped vessel, and it swung about to engage them directly. Andross dove hard, as Suref went high. The Jem'hadar ship dove after Andross, its beam pulsing around them and filling space with deadly energy.

All the while, Keiko's fingers were furiously working, her mind accelerating. "Suref, throw every micro torpedo you have at the junction between the generators on the back! Quickly!" She shouted.

_"Understood,"_ Suref replied. A moment later, Suref's fighter dove down on the Jem'hadar vessel like an avenging angel, its microphoton pods launching a rain of death. The shots landed like hail on a roof, the shields of the Jem'hadar fighter lighting up before giving up the ghost. The shields were down.

"Andross!" Keiko shouted. Andross flipped the Peregrine around and launched his own microphotons, pulling the ship down beneath the beams of the fighter. Every shot landed on the unshielded ventral hull of the vessel, puncturing and exploding into the vulnerable hull.

The Jem'hadar ship flew past them, tumbling as internal explosions began to rock and shake it from within. Until ultimately, the vessel exploded. The shockwave rattled the Peregrine's hull, but Andross kept control as he pushed his impulse engines to full. Andross finally let out the breath he was holding, panting hard.

"Got him!" Andross gasped. Keiko nodded, checking her sensors again. Another communication came through, on the general band.

"Rio Grande_ to all ships, we've got Commander Sisko and everyone else,_" O'Brien called. Keogh sounded relieved.

_"Understood! Everyone, withdrawal! Back to the wormhole!_" Keogh ordered._ "We've got what we came for!"_

Keiko checked on everyone else: Shran's Jem'hadar attack ships had been forced away from the _Odyssey_, Shran's lone fighter pursuing them to keep harassing them with bold attacks. Hajar and Zira's fighter was back nearer the _Odyssey_, working with the _Orinoco _to provide protection for the massive starship as it slowly limped away. The _Farbanti _was towing the _Mekong _with its tractor beam, leading the way for the withdrawal.

Abruptly, one of the Jem'hadar fighters broke from the engagement, and screamed at the _Odyssey _at full impulse. A dark feeling settled into Keiko's gut.

"_Odyssey_, incoming Jem'hadar!" She shouted.

_"This is Chevalier 4, we've got them,"_

Zira called out over the comms. Her fighter charged at the Jem'hadar ship, firing its phasers, determined to drive them away. Just as before.

The distance closed, smaller, smaller… Keiko gripped her console harder. The Jem'hadar fighter had to break, it was taking damage. Why wasn't it-?

_"Chevalier 4! Break! Break!" _

Shran ordered. The Peregrine finally pulled away, but too late: The Jem'hadar fighter put on even more speed, and smashed through the fighter, cutting it in half and sending the pieces spinning away into large plasma explosions. Keiko's gut fell into oblivion, her body going cold.

"Zira! Zira, respond, respond-!"

The horror wasn't over yet though. The _Orinoco _fired her own phasers, missing the fast moving purple starship that was already damaged. The _Odyssey _herself fired another few weak blasts, striking the fighter's starboard nacelle. Yet its purpose, what it had intended from the start, was fulfilled.

The Jem'hadar ship rammed into the _Odyssey's _forward engineering hull, vanishing into a gigantic explosion of heat, light and debris. The starboard nacelle was struck by the largest pieces of the doomed ship, shattering it and causing another explosion as the warp coils buckled and bled plasma. The explosion diminished, just enough to see the raw, burning remains of the forward engineering hull of the _Odyssey_. All her power systems and transmissions died as power abruptly failed every system. The ship buckled, shuddered, and began to drift. Keiko hit the communications key.

"_Odyssey! Odyssey_! Please respond! Please-!"

The warp core went up like a nova, and the entire _Odyssey _exploded into a massive, short lived sun. The flames died in the vacuum, as quickly as they appeared, leaving only the white hot corpse of the once mighty vessel. Keiko ran through her sensors, the shock leaving her disconnected but still functional. Her slim hope evaporated: No lifesigns detected.

None in the debris field of the _Odyssey_. None in the pieces of Zira and Hajar's fighter.

Nothing but death.

_"... Shran to all ships,"_ the Andorian commander said, his voice grim. _"Set course for the wormhole."_

"Understood," Andross responded softly. He set course, his fingers stiff. "... Keiko? Keiko?"

Keiko didn't respond. She found her arms encircling herself tightly as she shivered.

She was so _cold_ right now…

* * *

**More to come!**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

**_Federation Starbase Deep Space Nine, Bajoran Sector_**

**_2370_**

* * *

The mission had ended. Commander Sisko had brought back a female alien named Eris. She called herself a Vorta, a prisoner of the Dominion. This was one of those moments where it felt like the Universal Translator had been giving them a warning, the Vorta's name approximated through the context of her own language. It was a warning given too late though: She was a Dominion Agent and had beamed herself out. The transporter signal had vanished, and they couldn't find a ship nearby for her to have beamed to. Later examination of Eris' skin samples had revealed a few things: Namely, she was a clone. A very sophisticated one, judging from the DNA traces.

Between this and the destruction of the _Odyssey_… Well. A picture was forming of what they were up against. A picture she'd worked on for the last three days. A picture she had some ideas for dealing with. It wasn't going to be easy though.

Keiko was in her guest quarters on the station, packing up and getting ready. Her computer and dozens of PADDs were scattered around her bed and her desk. She occasionally stopped and added a note to one of them, or uploading something new to her computer, or made a design. So many things to do. Never enough time.

The chime on her door rang. She paused, and took a deep breath. She looked up at it.

"Come," she called. The doors slid open, and Andross stepped in. He looked up at her, solemn in his dress uniform. Zira's funeral was in two hours, before they sent what they had left to her family back at her home.

"Hey," he said. Keiko nodded slowly.

"Hey," she said back. Andross walked up and stood at the side of her bed. He looked down at the PADDs and her computer. He looked back up and raised his eyebrows.

"Busy, I see," he said. Keiko nodded, making a few notes on her PADD. She looked back up, and set it down. She gave him a smile.

"Yeah," she said. "Getting invited to talk to the heads of Starfleet Command."

"You didn't come up with all of this in just three days, did you?" Andross asked, sounding like he believed she really could. The faith he showed in her made her smile and laugh, but she shook her head.

"No. All of this is… Well, it's stuff I've been working on for a while," she admitted.

"They're that scared, huh?" He asked. Keiko nodded.

"Yeah. I can't blame them for it," she admitted. "Commander Sisko told me to take the gloves off. Because we don't know what might help against them." She looked down, letting out a long sigh. She felt his arms go around her, and she tensed… Before leaning in.

"Everything you wanted?" Andross he asked. Keiko shook her face against his chest. She sucked in another deep breath.

"I didn't want this. Nobody wants this," she said. "But we have to." She sighed softly.

"I've seen a whole world die before, Andross," she admitted. "I failed to stop it then. I failed-"

"It wasn't your fault," Andross tried. Keiko laughed softly, gripping his uniform tightly.

"They told me that, you know. All the therapists, everyone told me that. And I know it isn't. I really do." She pulled back enough to look up at Andross. "That's not what drives me, Andross. What drives me is that… Someone has to speak for these people. Someone has to speak for Zira and Hajar. Someone has to speak for everyone on the _Odyssey_. They can't just have died in vain. It has to mean something." She looked back at her hands. The hands of an engineer. She took a deep breath and looked back up at Andross.

"I'll _make_ it mean something."

"We all will," Andross said with a nod, eyes burning with a deep determination. He was doing his best to stay stoic, but she could tell he was putting on appearances. She hugged him. He hugged her back tightly.

"So, I'm going to go with Commander Sisko and Shran. Back to Starfleet. We're going to get some things together. We're going to make some changes."

"And then?" Andross asked. Keiko looked up at him, with a smile.

"Then we'll be back. And we'll make the Dominion sorry they ever tried to mess with us," she stated. Andross smiled back, happy but with a warrior's edge. She liked that smile.

"I… I'm glad," he said. "I mean, Jin's okay but I couldn't handle things on my own."

"You're admitting it? At last?" Keiko asked. "Are things really that desperate?"

Andross grimaced. "I didn't mean it like tha-"

"Well I'll tell you something, Lieutenant Gottschalk," Keiko said firmly, poking him right in the center of his chest, "you are not going to just butter me up and insult me with a lot of false modesty! Otherwise we'll stop improving. And that I will never allow."

Andross slowly nodded. Keiko smiled back.

"This is the part where you kiss me," she whispered cheekily. Andross raised his eyebrows.

"What makes you think I don't want to take my time?"

He kissed her nevertheless. He took care to push the computers and PADDs aside, before he pinned her to the bed. They didn't have much time before Zira and Hajar's service. They made it on time, holding hands. Everyone shot them knowing looks, but Keiko couldn't find it in herself to care.

She liked to think Zira would have approved.

* * *

**More to come...**


	16. Chapter 16

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

_Kurill Prime, The Gamma Quadrant_

_2371_

* * *

Part of Suref's Starfleet tactical training had involved being hit with a phaser set to stun. The blast had knocked him off his feet, as his nervous system had burned like fire racing through his veins. Then everything had become numb from the hit point outwards. Finally, everything had gone black and he'd fallen unconscious. The entire incident had been deeply unpleasant, even for his Vulcan discipline. It was part of his training though, and it was useful to understand how it felt.

So right now, as he slowly awoke from his stun, he kept himself still to analyze his surroundings. Cold medical table he was bound to. Filtered air. The smells of medical equipment, faint but still noticeable. The heat of a light overhead.

"Now now, don't do that. Your ability to keep your brain activity, heartbeat, and other bodily functions under control is admirable but ultimately futile," a female voice spoke. Suref slowly opened his eyes.

The surroundings were dull grays and purple, with green lit control consoles. Two meters away from Suref's interrogation table, a familiar Vorta female was standing in front of him. She smiled gently. Another Vorta female stood at the entrance, looking awkward. Suref looked back to the nearer Vorta.

"Eris, I presume," he said. Eris smiled, almost seeming pleasant save for the steel in her violet eyes.

"Lieutenant JG Suref of Vulcan. Born in Vulcana Regar. Tactical track officer, original assignment to the USS T'Kumbra. After a first contact with the Chiaran Remnant, you received a letter of reprimand from Captain Solok and reassigned to the 477th Squadron: A severe black mark on your record, I believe."

"You are attempting to develop a theme for interrogation by attempting to establish a rapport," Suref stated, sounding as unimpressed as he could. "This is well known in multiple cultures across both of our quadrants."

Eris continued to smile, shaking her head in mild disappointment. "I had read Vulcans were direct, but to engage the interrogator like this? That's quite a risk, isn't it?"

"You are undoubtedly going to do anything you wish to get the information you want out of me. I will not say anything useful." Suref looked up at the ceiling. "You will have to kill me."

"Oh, that's where you're wrong, Suref," Eris said with a smile. She reached out and caressed Suref's face, while the Vulcan remained stony and silent. "Your mental abilities are impressive, I'll grant you. But the Dominion has been around far longer than the Federation. We know far more than you can imagine. We have methods you cannot defeat. Eventually, you will break. And you will tell us everything we want. How painful it will get is up to you."

Suref felt probes against his mind. He tensed as Eris's smile grew wider, showing her teeth. The female Vorta assistant pulled back, against the far wall. Eris stepped up, stroking Suref's ears as he began to struggle against his bonds. Even his great strength didn't avail him.

"The people who inhabited this planet were powerful psychics. They built amazing things: This entire city, the orbital elevator above our heads, but it was all for nought: They fell to the Dominion. And so will you. Their psychic abilities are now part of us-Part of _me_."

He could see her eyes in his mind, as memories were dragged out from behind his defenses. Suref grit his teeth, feeling agitated as jagged psychic fingers began to dig into his mind. Eris leaned in close, her breath hissing against his ear.

"Why don't we explore them," Eris whispered, as his mind _screamed_.

* * *

**More to come...**


	17. Chapter 17-Interlude

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

**Old Friends**

**Outpost 444, Valo II, Bajoran Sector**

**2370**

* * *

The burning in his legs was... Refreshing, in an odd way. Of course, it wasn't difficult, taking a brisk jog about in the morning, but the routine of doing so each day was comforting.

He liked having a routine. Get up, shower, dress, exercise, report for duty. It gave his day structure, and that made his life feel a little easier.

He knew it was odd, but Lt. Zaravan wasn't as... Sociable as most, either. It was hard for him to speak, talking to others even in the squadron if it wasn't professional. He could shout orders, give instructions with ease, but when it came to shooting shit about the weather, he almost always found himself unable to mutter a word.

He quite hated it. He knew why, after all. If he talked, he'd get close to them, if he got close to them, they'd find out.

Find out why he was here.

And he couldn't even consider that as a possibility.

As such, he turned his thoughts to other matters, such as the base's architecture. They were quite sobering, as the base had stood since the days of legends like Captain Kirk and his crew.

They were gone, now. But from all the after mission reports he'd read about what they'd often stumbled into, things seemed so much... Simpler back then. No interstellar war, no Borg, no Cardassians... Just exploring through the cosmos.

What was that thing he once said?

'Second star to the right, and straight on till morning'.

Those days were gone now, just like the men who lived them.

He decided to go a little further today, off of the base. Taking a moment to breath, he slipped into the town through the base's main gate. There was no problem of course, as he had his commbadge on him like always. 'Rama Town', the locals called it.

Rama meant sand in Bajoran.

He refrained from commenting on that, as it was among the least offensive names the town was called.

Off duty as he was, he didn't draw too much attention as he made his way further among the crowds. Of course, he couldn't just do so without event, as he quickly spotted a Constable settling some dispute or another between two shopkeeps. The words he couldn't make out from this distance were quite heated, but it was clear the Constable had things well in hand. No need for him to get involved.

He had quite the respect for them. Outside the base, the Bajoran Constables were the only means of any law for the town, and they were strict where needed to keep people in line.

After a moment more of watching the dispute, he moved on, once again silently weaving through the throngs of Bajorans and some off-duty Starfleet personnel.

"Lieutenant Zaravan!"

"Bajin." He greeted politely as he turned to a familiar face. The old man in front of him had struck up a conversation with him one day, god knows why, and he'd somehow ended up repeatedly running into him.

To be honest, he didn't know what the elderly grandfather saw in him, sometimes.

"Come on, come on!" He was waving from a table at a cafe, the air warm and spicy with traditional Bajoran cooking. "You need food!"

"Bajin..." He sighed. They both knew that he could never refuse an offer of a free meal like that because he didn't want to be ungrateful. It's how he always managed to rope him into another conversation, without fail.

And again, without fail, he made his way over and sat down across from the old man. "The usual rations always keep me nourished, you know. You don't have to offer me food out of your own pocket."

"Hmph! Federation replicated slop," Bajin said, pounding his hand on the table.

He shook his head in good humor at that. Bajin had always made his stance on replicated food clear. Personally, he thought freshly made food was a luxury he didn't really deserve, but...

"The usual then, old man?" He said, giving the ghost of a smirk. It was the best effort of a smile anyone usually got out of him. For Bajin to do so meant a lot.

"You're too dependent on it. You need more fresh, natural food in your system," Bajin said, nodding decisively.

"Well, I can never argue with you on that." He acceded. "The Hasperat, then?"

He was definitely going to have to spend time on the john after this. It always hurt. A lot. But he could never refuse Bajin and thus, he tolerated the suffering it caused his colon.

The Hasperat was served, though much less eye watering than Zaravan was used to. It was also served with fried, crunchy Palukoo legs-Something the human found more appetizing.

While he had quite the hatred of arachnids, their flesh was absolutely delicious. So at least they had some redeeming factor there.

It took a lot of willpower not to chow down without a care, but he managed to restrain himself and not look like a total glutton. All too soon, his own meal was gone, and he couldn't help but feel quite satisfied afterwards.

"Well Bajin, I know you didn't just call me over to have a bite, wonderful as it always is." He lamented jokingly. "Despite the fact I'm not the best conversationalist."

"You Starfleeters are always paranoid about the wrong things," Bajin replied with a laugh. "I offer a meal, you suspect an ulterior motive. The Cardies offer a truce, you embrace it eagerly." He shook his head and sighed, before he began eating. "And who says we need to talk? We can eat. Sit here. Enjoy things."

Bajin bit down, loud crunches leaving his mouth as he eagerly devoured his Palukoo.

"Mhm. Strong. Right." He muttered quietly, thoughts turning to dark memories before he quickly shook them away. "Well, considering all the strange things that tends to happen to Federation ships, can you blame us for being a little paranoid? At least afford us that much, hm?" He chuckled humorlessly.

"Che. Half those things were probably your crews high off fumes," Bajin snorted. "No offense to Kirk-Great man, Kirk. But giant space creatures? Stealing someone's brain?"

"Kirk was... Many things." He grimaced. Being able to keep it in his pants was definitely the least of them. "But he wasn't a liar. Besides..." He sighed. "I saw a number of... Odd events on the Helmgart. Most were lethal. The attrition rate among Security and MACO was... Not envious."

"The Prophets were looking out for you, indeed," Bajin acknowledged gently. A slightly awkward silence fell, for the rest of the meal. It was time enough though that Bajin used a napkin to wipe his mouth and look across the table seriously.

"I wanted to tell you, Lieutenant… I'm moving back to Bajor."

His eyes slightly widened at that, looking back at him. "You're going back, after all this time?" He asked. "What made you want to go? It wasn't my manners, was it?" He joked slightly, though he did seem perturbed at him leaving. He'd gotten used to spending time with the old man.

Bajin laughed. "Not at all! But I want to live out my remaining years home. Show my grandchildren their inheritance. But the fact of the matter is, my deputies are…" He trailed off with a grimace.

"You don't have faith in them?" He raised a brow. "They seem to be able to keep a good hold on things here, but... I might not know as much as I should, Bajin."

Bajin snorted. "What makes you think I'd ask you to have anything to do with it?"

"...I don't. And I can't help if you can't tell me what you need." He says after a moment. "You know me by now, Bajin. I'll help you with whatever you need. Now what's going on?"

Bajin chuckled, shaking his head in a practiced motion. "I would like you to train our police force, when I'm gone," he said. "It will be good for them to learn how to enforce justice in the Starfleet way."

He frowned at that. "...You sure, Bajin? I'm more capable at training soldiers, not peacekeepers." He sighed. "I don't want people to get the wrong idea if they see a Military Officer training their police force."

"Well, unless Starfleet is willing to ship out some actual police officers, you're what we have. More than that… You care about what happens to us."

"...Alright. I'll do what I can, Bajin." He sighed, sitting up in his chair. "It's the least I can do for being so kind to me. I'll train them and, if I can, equip them with the best equipment I can procure for them."

Bajin nodded. "Thank you." He sipped some tea. "That you're saying that without talking to your commanding officer first means a lot."

Oh.

Bajin smirked. "Fortunately… I did," he said, with a sly glint in his eyes.

"You sly old dog." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Well, you have me now. Just tell me when to start the training, and I'll begin putting your deputies through the motions."

* * *

_An extra bit for this story written with Zaravan. _


	18. Chapter 18

_**Star Trek: Wings of the Renaissance**_

_A Star Trek fanfiction by Andrew Joshua Talon_

DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan-based work of prose. Star Trek is the property of CBS and Paramount. Please support the official release.

* * *

_Orbit of Valo II_

_2371_

_Two standard weeks ago..._

* * *

Commander Shran and Warrant Officer Matsunaga were not the only officers recalled to Starfleet Command after the Odyssey's destruction. Lieutenant Commander Serkanno too had been recalled, apparently for a special assignment with her people. As a result, overall command of Outpost 444 had fallen to the most experienced officer on base.

Unfortunately, that was himself. Though he scarcely qualified: He had only been an officer for two years longer than Lieutenant Gottschalk. Outpost 444 was meant as a waystation for most officers: Either they improved and went on to other assignments after having their issues resolved, or they left the service entirely.

That said, Suref's case was rather different from most officers. Not that he discussed it unless required to. It had earned him the callsign "Happy"-The contrast of the callsign with his temperament of course meant to be an ironic source of humor. Vulcans did not admit to emotions, but he could at least state honestly that as of late, he was _not_ happy.

His last three months had consisted of filing reports, dealing with issues with the base personnel, and handling transfers and logistics. Nothing too taxing for him, of course. Vulcan discipline was an unappreciated asset when it came to the mundane but critical issues of command management.

That said, even a Vulcan could become... Restless. He would never admit to an emotional thrill about flight, but he did prefer to be flying than behind a desk.

This, Lieutenant Gottschalk seemed to understand instinctively. So when the flight lead had offered to have Suref lead a routine patrol, he had... Not leaped at the chance. But he'd taken to it with far less hesitation that one would expect of him.

And so he and the squadron leader were out in their Peregrines, Ensign Jin in his backseat and Lieutenant Gottschalk and Ensign Yuy and in the other fighter. It was a highly eccentric orbital path, out past Valo III and into the Oort Cloud surrounding the system. They were far apart, just within visual range, as they cruised at high impulse speed.

While Suref would not say it felt "good", it was more productive to be doing something he was properly trained for rather than suffering the emotional turmoil going on back at the base. The endless expanse of the stars seemed to stretch before them, and all that filled the communications channel was Jin's occasional updates on their course and speed.

It was out here in the blackness of space that Suref could truly appreciate the power of flight. The true, logical majesty of the universe. The silence.

The HUD lit up as a new contact entered sensor range. Jin was already analyzing it from the backseat, and he projected the new information onto the screens before Suref's eyes.

"Sir, one contact. Warp signature and transponder identifies her as the SS_ Argonaut,_ out of Sol Sector," Jin reported, sounding a bit bored. Suref studied the warp signature profile, and as usual compared it to the signatures in the database. He ran through the waveform and checked every detail. He raised a single eyebrow.

"Happy to Bran. The _Argonaut_ seems early for their resupply run," he observed over the comms to Gottschalk. The lieutenant hummed thoughtfully over the link.

"_Well, only one surefire way to confirm any ship identity, Happy. Let's close to visual range,"_ he suggested.

"Agreed. Change course and accelerate to full impulse," Suref stated.

"_Acknowledged,"_ Bran replied.

Suref altered course, smoothly accelerating as the other Peregrine followed suit. They headed for the still distant _Argonaut,_ only a blip on their sensor screens now. Still, it was close enough for contact.

"Argonaut, _this is Alpha Flight out of Valos II. You have entered sensor range, please confirm,"_ Bran sent in a clear, standard hail.

There was no response. Suref considered the possibilities, as Jin nervously shook his head behind him.

"Shall we try again, sir?"

The warp signature radically shifted, the smooth curves turning into sharp, jagged hills and valleys. The correlation in the database took a few moments, but he'd seen this warp signature before clearly.

"_Jem'hadar Fighters!" _Bran called out. The contact immediately changed course and accelerated for them, splitting into two distinct signatures. Suref armed weapons and raised shields as the two contacts closed on them at warp speed. Gottschalk's fighter did the same.

"Raise the Outpost, we need to warn them," Suref ordered.

"_Already on it-! Outpost 444, we have Jem'hadar fighters! Jem'hadar fighters-!"_

The warp signatures changed again… This time, to nothing in the database but certainly closer to the Federation's spectrum. The two contacts finally entered visual range, and Suref zoomed in on them.

What he saw was not what he expected. Jin breathed in shock behind him.

Two fighter-sized vessels dropped out of warp in front of them, white and black, and shaped like predatory birds. Warp engines burned bright blue and red on their ventral hulls, as small deflectors glowed in air ram ports. They slowed as they got close, and Suref lowered the impulse drive intensity himself. Bran slowed his own fighter too, shadowing him perfectly.

"What… What are those?" He asked. The Tullian received a beep on his console. "Sir! They're hailing us!"

"_Sorry about the scare, Happy,"_ Commander Shran said, "_but Keiko insisted on a test of the Valkyries' warp masking collars. Seems like they work well."_

"Commander?" Suref questioned. Bran had a different reaction.

"_Valkyries?! Keiko?!"_

The cheerful Japanese woman's voice came over the communications link, loud and clear.

"_Hey honey, I'm home! And we brought back a little surprise for the Dominion!"_

"_Several surprises,"_ Shran added. "_They should be along on the _Argonaut _soon."_

And then yet another surprise made itself known. A visual link was established. Behind the helmet was a cheerful, beaming face he hadn't seen in ages.

"_Like me! Hey Suref honey!"_ The woman cried, raising her arm and waving it happily in the confined cockpit of the Valkyrie. Suref could see his commander smirk in the front seat.

He felt his own right third eyelid twitch slightly.

"Lieutenant Chai," he greeted politely, "it has been some time."

* * *

_It's been a while and it's short, but it's a start._


End file.
